Who Am I
by CLK
Summary: I'm taking a break from season 11 There appears to be less interest there. Who Am I A single event in Harm and Mac's lives turns their past and future upside down.
1. Chapter 1 thru 10

**Title:** Who Am I.

**Background**: Written in Nov 2005 – this story is AU starting at season four so there is no trip to Russia in Season 6 to meet Sergei and no CIA job to meet Mattie. Story begins a few years in the future.

**Summary:** A single event in Harm and Mac's lives turns their past and future upside down.

**Chapter 1**

**Rabb home**

**Falls Church Virginia**

**Late August, 2010 **

Mac could hear the phone ringing. Slamming the washer lid shut, she ran upstairs to the nearest phone. Harm was already almost an hour late. It was about time he let her know what the hold up was. Trisha would undoubtedly read him the riot act if they were late leaving for the campout. She just loved doing Indian Princesses with her dad, especially since they'd gone renegade.

"Hello."

"Mrs. Rabb?" the tentative voice asked on the other end.

"Speaking," Mac let out a small sigh. She hated sales calls.

"This is Officer James Harris with the DC police."

Mac's heart instantly sank to the pit of her stomach. Tommy was playing at Danny's across the street. DC police wouldn't be involved in Virginia, unless Sue had taken the kids into the city. On the other hand, Harm was an hour late checking in. Oh God, no.

"Mrs. Rabb? Are you with me?"

"Yes, sorry. How may I help you?" Why was she asking? She knew why he was calling.

"There's been an accident. Your husband was care-flighted to Bethesda." Jim hated making these calls, especially ones like this. How do you tell a woman it was unlikely she'd ever see her husband awake again?

"Was...was anyone else hurt?" 'Care flight' echoed in Mac's head. This wasn't good. The tears pooled in her eyes.

"Not seriously, ma'am. Your husband must be one hell of a driver. Witnesses say he avoided plowing into at least three other cars before he slid off the embankment. Skid marks appear to confirm it." Not many women asked about other people first. This lady was either incredibly caring, incredibly brave, or didn't really give a damn about her husband.

"I'm...I'm on my way." Mac managed to hold it together, her voice obviously cracking.

"I'll need to get some information from you when you arrive." Nope, this woman cared, cared a lot, Jim decided.

"Okay." Fighting the tears, Mac hung up the phone and dialed Sue.

"Hello?"

"Sue," Mac cleared her throat. Maybe that would help her not sound as scared as she felt. "I need you to come get Trisha. I... I have to go to Bethesda. Harm's been in an accident."

"Sure, hon, but I'm going with you. Walk Trisha over here, and I'll drive." Sue's tone left no room for argument. The hair on the back of her neck had bristled at the sound of her friend's voice. She had a bad feeling about this.

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. I'll be right there." Mac's first instincts were to say that wouldn't be necessary, but logic quickly kicked in. The last thing her kids needed was to lose two parents in the same day to car accidents.

"Trisha, I need you to come here a minute." Mac waited at the bottom of the stairs, her purse and keys already in her hand, though she didn't remember stopping to pick them up.

"What's up? Is dad here yet?"

"No, honey. Listen, I'm going to need you to go to Mrs. Gleeson's for a while. Dad's been in an accident, and they need me to go see him."

"What kind of an accident? Will he be home in time for the camp out?" The little girl curled her upper lip, valiantly hiding her fear. She looked so damn much like her father when she did that.

"I don't think so. I'll call Uncle Bud and have him pick you up at Mrs. Gleeson's. I'm sure Sara won't mind sharing you with her dad this time."

"Is dad going to die?"

Mac could see the watery shine in her daughter's eyes. Pulling Trisha into a tight hug, Mac squeezed her eyes closed. "No, honey. Daddy wouldn't do that to you, to us. I'll call you as soon as I know more about what happened. Okay?"

The little girl nodded her head into her mom's bosom, holding on for dear life.

"Let's not tell Tommy yet. We'll wait till I know a little more. Sound good to you?"

"Uh huh." Pulling away, Trisha kept up the brave face. "I'll take care of him. Don't worry."

Mac smiled at her nine-year old daughter. "Thanks baby."

"MOMMM."

"I know, I know. You're not a baby."

Less than fifteen minutes later Mac was sitting in the front seat of her neighbor's car staring blankly out the window.

"Mac," Sue ventured carefully. "Do we need to call anyone?"

Looking over at Sue, Mac merely nodded her head and flipped her cell phone open. Amazed she could remember anything at all, she punched the numbers for the Roberts' house.

"Hello?"

"Harriet, it's Mac."

"How's it going?"

"Not very well. I need a favor." Mac was having a hard time finding words.

"Name it."

"I need Bud to come pick Trisha up at Sue's and take her with him on the campout."

"Mac, what's wrong?" Harriet straightened her shoulders. She should have picked up on Mac's hollow tone as soon as Mac had said Harriet.

"It's Harm. He's been taken to Bethesda." None of this seemed real. This had to be a bad dream. Harm was a great driver. He had the reflexes of a fighter pilot. This couldn't be happening.

"How bad is he?" Harriet closed her eyes wishing for the right answer.

"I don't know. The officer said he was care-flighted to the hospital and no one else was hurt. That's all I know so far." Mac's mouth was starting to feel thick and pasty. She wasn't sure she could keep talking.

"Don't you worry about a thing. I'll see to it that Bud takes care of Trisha and I'll get with Sue later about Tommy. I'll make a few phone calls. Do you want me to call his mom?"

"I... I don't know." A dense fog was slowly filling Mac's brain.

"Never mind. I'll take care of everything. I'll be there as soon as I can." Harriet waited for Mac to say something else but only heard the silence of the disconnected phone. This had to be anyone's worst nightmare.

The thirty minute drive to Bethesda, Maryland seemed to take forever. When Sue pulled up at the emergency room entrance, Mac wasn't sure the car had even come to a complete stop before she'd opened the door and bolted towards the large brick building.

Frantically scanning her surroundings, Mac made her way to the only person in scrubs.

"I was told my husband was brought in by care flight. I need to know how he is." Mac was struggling to maintain her composure. What she really wanted to do was shout 'Snap To!' and order someone to give her answers.

"Take it easy. I'm not the receptionist but maybe I can help you."

No sooner had the words come out of the nurse's mouth than the double-wide doors flew open and a swarm of pastel colored people rushed past her pushing a gurney. Mac's head snapped in the direction of the beehive of activity. Barely able to see the patient's face, Mac knew it was Harm. All sorts of portable machinery and tubes were hanging from the gurney. There didn't seem to be any part of his face that wasn't covered in gauze, tape, or tubes.

By the time she blinked to focus, the hurried crowd had passed into the elevators and out of sight.

"That's him!" Mac almost screamed.

"Take it easy ma'am. Let me have your name." Nurse Elizabeth Buckner was in no mood for a hysterical wife, especially not after a shift like today's. Every time this happened she just reminded herself that if she ever found herself on the other end of that panicked look, God had better give her a patient and honest nurse.

"Sarah Rabb. My husband is Captain Harmon Rabb," Mac managed to explain.

"Yes, Mrs..." Before the nurse could finish her sentence, Sue came running down the hall.

"Have they told you anything?"

Mac shook her head no.

"I was just about..." the nurse started again.

"This is Colonel Sarah Rabb, her husband is Captain Harmon Rabb. We need to know what's going on, now." Sue placed a casual arm around Mac's shoulder.

"As I was trying to tell Colonel Rabb, that was her husband that was just taken upstairs. He's on his way to surgery. I'm afraid I don't have any more information than that. I suggest you take her to the third floor waiting room. There's an officer waiting to get some information, and she'll need to fill out a surgical consent form. If there's any news, the doctor will be looking for her there."

**Chapter 2**

**Bethesda Naval Medical Center**

**Surgical Waiting Room**

Mac and Sue had answered all the policeman's questions, and Mac had signed every form the staff had given her. It wasn't very long afterwards when Harriet came rushing through the doorway.

"Any news yet?" Harriet made her way over to where Mac and Sue were sitting.

"Not yet," Sue answered for Mac.

Harriet looked at Mac's vacant stare, then glanced over at Sue, who just shrugged. "Would you like something to drink? Maybe some nice hot tea?" Harriet suggested.

Mac didn't respond. She didn't appear to have heard a thing Harriet said.

Finally, Sue whispered, "She hasn't said a word since we left the ER."

"I made a few phone calls," Harriet directed at Mac. "AJ is going to wait until we hear something more specific before calling Mrs. Burnett." Harriet looked over at Sue. She was really starting to worry about Mac. She had no way of knowing Mac was in her own little world.

**JAG Ops**

**May 1999**

"You and me, have a baby together?"

"Yeah, if in ... five years neither of us is in a relationship, we'll go halves on a kid."

Mac stared curiously at her partner. She could almost see Harm starting to squirm.

"Five years?"

"Five years," he repeated.

"Is there something about the number five you find especially appealing, or did you simply pull it out of a hat?" Mac grinned impishly.

"I...I thought that would give you enough time."

"Time for what?" Mac frowned. What she thought was a humorous gesture to make her feel better had suddenly taken on a more serious tone.

Harm floundered for the courage he needed. "To learn to see me the way I see you."

Could it be she'd been wrong? Could it be he cared for her as much as she did for him? She'd almost said too much that night in her apartment when he'd said he wanted to return to flying, but maybe she hadn't said enough.

"What if I don't like the number five?" Mac bit her lower lip. She couldn't believe she was taking a chance like this.

"Not long enough?" What was she up to? What was she trying to tell him? God, he didn't want to screw this up.

"What if I don't want to wait that long?" Mac took one step closer. She was taking a terrible chance, but what did she have to lose? If Harm returned to flying, she'd lose him anyway.

"Mac?" Harm moved closer, suddenly forgetting they were standing in the front entrance of a military building.

"Yes?" Mac wasn't sure she could breathe.

"Would you consider going halves on a kid in four years?" Harm could feel the beat of his heart pulsing through his body.

Mac shook her head no and prayed.

"Three?" It was Harm's turn to hold his breath.

Each of them inching slightly closer with every word, Mac was now standing only a hair's breadth away from Harm when she shook her head no again.

Harm had never felt so drawn to anyone in his life. It was as though there was a magnet pulling him closer and closer. His heart was pounding frantically. He was only moments away from having his wildest dreams come true or his entire world shattered. There was only one way to find out.

"Now, Mac? Will you have me now?"

Harm felt his world stop when Mac nodded her head yes. He'd moved so close, she could feel his breath on her face when the sound of an approaching car snapped them back to reality like a cold shower.

Each taking a step backwards, neither broke the steady gaze, their eyes locked onto each other like heat-seeking missiles.

Finally, Harm managed to mumble, "We need to talk."

Mac nodded yes.

Reaching out, his thumb barely caressed the side of her arm. "Come to my place? I'll try and secure early." A mischievous smile spread across his face. "I'll cook."

Mac simply couldn't find her voice. Nodding her head again, she was horribly afraid if she uttered a single word, the spell would be broken and she'd awaken from this wonderful dream, cold and alone.

Not wanting to break the connection, the two officers barely moved. If Tiner hadn't come back through the door with a, "Sir, ma'am. The admiral's looking for you," they might have very well stood on that porch until it was time to secure.

**Bethesda Naval Hospital**

**Date 2010**

"Mac."

Blinking her eyes, Mac finally recognized Harriet's voice. Looking up, she remembered where she was. This wasn't Ops in 1999. She and Harm hadn't just discovered their feelings for each other. The man she loved more than life itself was somewhere down the hall, fighting for his.

One of the nurses stood beside Harriet. "Mrs. Rabb, the doctor sent me out to inform you they've stopped the internal bleeding and have begun repairing the remaining damage. It could be a while, but the important thing is he's holding his own."

"Thank you," Mac's voice cracked.

Sue and Harriet let out a visible sigh of relief. Mac had sat silently in her own world for almost an hour.

"He's going to make it. You know he's going to be fine. Harm is tough," Harriet pointed out, her hand resting gently on Mac's.

"I know, Harriet. I just, I just don't know what I'd do without him." A single tear trickled down Mac's cheek.

**Harm's apartment**

**May 1999**

**1745**

"Hi." Harm swung the door open wide.

"Hey," Mac smiled nervously.

"Come on in. I hope you don't mind pasta. It's all I had." Harm hurried back to the stove, lifting the pot lid to check on the nearly boiling water. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Water will be fine." Mac slid onto a stool in front of the island.

Grabbing a couple of bottled waters from the fridge, Harm took a deep breath. He felt like a schoolboy on his first date. He couldn't remember ever being this nervous. Setting a bottle on the counter in front of Mac, he took a seat beside her.

"About today." Harm was looking down at the bottle he held.

Mac watched him picking at the corners of the label. Please God, don't let him back out now.

"I meant what I said." Harm looked up to meet her gaze.

"So did I."

He couldn't help chuckling quietly. "I know I'm a skilled litigator, but I can't seem to find the words I want. I'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing."

"Then maybe you shouldn't say anything at all." Mac raised a single suggestive eyebrow.

Scooting to the edge of his seat, his voice was barely a whisper."Mac..." Harm reached over and took her hand in his. It was so small, almost frail the way it folded willingly into his firm grip.

"Harm?" Mac shifted her weight, her body gravitating closer to the source of the heat that was rising from the tip of her fingers directly to her beating heart. Her eyes searched his, hoping to find some sign of the same love she felt.

Irresistibly drawn towards her, Harm's lips fell gently on hers. Sliding his arm around her, he pulled her into his embrace. As her soft lips pressed against his, he knew this was what he'd been waiting for. The feel of her fingers caressing the side of his face, of her soft lips parting in invitation of things to come, Harm couldn't hold back a low groan.

Feeling him pull away as she was praying he'd finally give in, Mac softly asked, "What?"

Harm searched her eyes the same way she had just done only moments ago. Pulling her close again, the right words finally came. "Let's get married."

**Chapter 3**

**Bethesda**

**2010**

Mac had been pacing the floor for hours. Stopping and looking up at the clock, she realized for maybe the first time in her life she had no idea how long she'd been waiting. By now, AJ had grown impatient waiting with Meredith at the Roberts' home and had joined the growing group of concerned friends. Sturgis and Varese had been about an hour outside of DC on their way to New York for a long weekend when they got the news and turned around. Jennifer Coates and her husband Bobby were huddled in the corner.

Over the years Harm had been an odd cross between brother and father to Jen, and she seemed to be taking this hardest of all their friends. Harriet convinced Sue that with all of Mac's friends here, it would be best if Sue went home and took care of the boys. She readily agreed. Sue had left the younger children with her eldest daughter, but she was sure by now the chances were pretty good that Tommy would be asking questions her daughter Mary wouldn't be able to answer. She was a pretty bright sixteen-year-old, but this was just a little bit over her head.

"Hasn't it been long enough?" Mac snapped to no one in particular. "It's been forever since they've sent us any word."

"And no news is good news. It means he's still stable and they have something fixable to work on." AJ put his arm around Mac's shoulder. "Why don't we go downstairs and get some coffee? I'm sure Harriet will come get us if there's any change."

"You know I can't, but a cup of coffee does sound good."

"I'll be right back," AJ nodded.

"No, sir. You stay here. I'll get it. I think I need the walk, anyhow." Jennifer Coates hadn't worked for the Admiral since he'd retired six years ago, but she still called him 'sir' on the few occasions their paths would cross.

Mac took in a long deep breath and let it out very slowly. This waiting was killing her. She didn't dare let herself think what her life would be like without Harm. He'd given up his flying status when she became pregnant with Tommy. He knew he didn't have to be in combat to lose his life in a tomcat. A simple routine qualification mishap could ruin his dream of watching his son grow old.

Mac had been troubled wondering why he would give up his wings for his son and not his daughter. She had been struggling with the reasons silently until one day Harm finally cornered her.

**Rabb home **

**Pearl Harbor, Hawaii**

**February 2004**

"What ever it is, I want to know." Harm cornered Mac in the bathroom brushing her hair.

"Know what?" Mac was stalling.

"Something's troubling you and I want to help." Harm had been trying to decide if it was something serious or just something he should chalk up to maternal hormones. After almost four days of watching Mac go through the motions of daily life, he couldn't wait anymore.

Mac slowly set the brush down on the sink and turned to face Harm. "I've been thinking."

Harm dropped his hands on her hips and nodded for her to go on.

"It's... your wings."

Harm curled his brow in confusion. "You don't want me to stop flying?"

"No. I mean, yes," she sighed heavily. "I mean, I want you to do what's right for you."

"And I explained that I can't be my best if in the back of my mind I'm worrying about leaving you and the kids on your own. I'm perfectly happy flying Sarah whenever I get the chance."

"I understand that."

"Then why so glum?" Harm just couldn't understand. He thought for sure Mac would be thrilled he'd finally put his wings away.

"Why didn't you give it up for Trisha? Is it because you're hoping this time it's a boy?"

Harm's mouth dropped open wide before he gathered his wits and spoke. "NO. My God, Mac. Do you really think that I would consider either one of our children more important than the other?"

"Not really, but it looks that way." Mac was already regretting she'd said anything. Harm was right, she should know better than to even consider such a thing.

Harm took a step back and turned, rubbing his hand through his hair and across the back of his neck before he turned back around to face Mac. "I... I thought about it when you told me you were pregnant with Trisha. The day she was born and her little hand grabbed the tip of my finger, I was ready to turn my wings in on the spot. There wasn't anything that would be worth not seeing her grow up, graduate, get married, have children of her own. A lifetime I might never get to share flashed through my mind with that first gentle touch."

"Then why didn't you?" Mac closed the lid of the toilet and sat down.

"I got sent out to the Seahawk that week. The suicide that turned out to be an accident. I took one whiff of the jet fuel and thought, a little longer won't be bad. Then 9/11 came along and I thought they might need me. I almost turned them in again when Bud lost his leg."

"The dirty nuke?"

"Yeah. I thought back to those few minutes in the air. That lieutenant was a good pilot, but I don't know if the outcome would have been the same if I hadn't been there. I guess I just couldn't bring myself to give them up."

"I'll agree they were damn lucky the admiral had requested you go instead of sending someone from HQ. And now?"

Harm closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Last month, when I did my quals..."

Mac nodded.

"I didn't tell you everything."

Mac swallowed hard.

"I got the chance to tag along on a sortie. It was no big deal except the bus to refill my tank had some mechanical failure and I couldn't refuel. I had enough to make it back to the ship. What I hadn't counted on was the bird before me fouling the deck. I had to circle on bingo fuel while they cleared the way. The engine burned out just as I caught the wire."

Mac hadn't realized she'd been gripping the edge of the sink with all her strength.

"I made up my mind then, I just didn't know how to tell you." Harm moved up close to Mac and squatted down in front of her. " I don't want to miss a single moment of our old age together. I'm giving it up for the kids, but I'm really giving it up for us. I love you."

Like a typical pregnant woman, Mac fell into Harm's embrace and bawled her eyes out for the next ten minutes.

**Bethesda **

**2010**

"Mac, honey." Harriet gingerly tapped Mac on the leg. The doctor was coming towards them, and Mac appeared lost in thought.

By the time the doctor had reached the eagerly waiting group, they were huddled closer than a football team in the last 30 seconds of a tied game.

"Mrs. Rabb?"

Mac could barely nod.

The doctor looked around at the large gathering of people. "If you'd like to come sit down someplace quiet?"

"No." Mac reached over and grabbed Harriet's hand. "Here is fine. How is he?"

"He's stable."

Mac squeezed Harriet's hand a little harder. She wanted more than stable. She was waiting for 'he'll be just fine.'

"We had quite a bit of damage to repair. He's lucky to be alive. As soon as he's out of recovery we'll move him to intensive care. You'll be able to see him then. This would be an excellent opportunity to go home and get some rest."

"What kind of damage?" Mac was amazed she had the wherewithal to ask questions.

"First we had to repair a tear to his liver. That was the most serious bleeder. There was some minor damage to the diaphragm. The pressure from the other organs in his chest area was causing the stress on his breathing and heart rate. The impact from the injury twisted his bowel. We straightened that. He also has a separated shoulder. Both the AC and CC ligaments are torn. When he's stronger, it will need to be surgically repaired."

"Then he's going to be alright?" Mac could barely find her voice.

"There is some intracranial bleeding. We'll be keeping a close eye on that. We'll know better when he wakes up."

No sooner had the words left his lips than all sorts of codes began blaring over the intercom system. One nurse took off running down the hall, the other came back towards the doctor and simply nodded her head before rapidly following the first nurse.

"I have to go." Without another word the doctor disappeared down the long corridor he'd just come from.

"Oh, God, Harriet. It's Harm."

**Chapter 4**

The seconds seemed like minutes, the minutes like hours. Mac had lost all sense of time. AJ had to practically drag her to a seat after the doctor left.

"We've been through this before Colonel. Harm's a survivor." AJ intentionally used Mac's rank. While he understood her pain and fear, he didn't want her falling apart. She had two children she needed to stay strong for.

"The Admiral's right, Mac. Harm's a fighter. He'll pull through this like he has every other accident in his life. I still remember the ramp strike. If a tomcat couldn't kill him, there isn't a car on earth that can." Sturgis had to swallow hard to get that last sentence out without his voice cracking.

Mac's mind wandered back to the time Harm had been trapped with a prisoner on the USS Suribachi. If it hadn't been for Harm's and the Admiral's determination, Harm most likely would have drowned that day. He wasn't the kind of man to give up easily on himself. Nor would he give up on someone else, like the time he'd been sent to the Henry as legal liaison to the Russian delegation and wound up in a tomcat trying the dangerous stunt of pushing a pilot home by his tail hook. She had to hang on to moments like that. Harm was indeed a survivor, a fighter. She had to stay strong. She simply had to believe.

Spotting the doctor coming back down the hall, Mac's heart raced frantically.

"I'm sorry about that. Captain Rabb went into respiratory arrest. We've got him on a respirator and stabilized. He's being moved to intensive care as we speak. We have a lovely family members' room. If you'll follow me, we can discuss your husband's condition further."

"Here is just fine. I'll only tell them later."

Looking around at the large support group surrounding her, the doctor discarded the thought of insisting they go somewhere more private to discuss her husband's condition. "Very well, at least let's sit down a minute."

Mac braced herself. What could be more serious than being on a respirator that he would require she sit down for him to tell her?

"Mrs. Rabb, your husband has a subarachnoid hemorrhage. Most likely his head impacted the window or windshield. The car may have stopped, but his brain was still bouncing back and forth between the frontal lobe and anterior skull at nearly 70 miles an hour."

Mac waited silently for the other shoe to fall.

"The Captain's brain is swollen and bleeding. He's slipped into a coma."

A collective gasp could be heard through the room. Mac swallowed hard, her mouth as dry as cotton. She simply couldn't find words.

"What is the prognosis, doctor?" AJ asked for Mac.

"We're monitoring the situation. Usually, once the swelling subsides and the body has had a chance to reabsorb the blood, the patient comes to."

"Is there anything that can be done to decrease the swelling more quickly?"

"Actually, the pressure from the swelling is what's slowing the bleeding, acting as a plug of sorts. The best we can do for now is to monitor the pressure and wait for his body to do what it does naturally." The doctor looked around at all the pale faces in the room. He hated passing on news like this. He wished he could be more hopeful, but there were no guarantees when a brain injury was involved.

"May I see him now?" Mac asked quietly.

"Yes. Intensive care is on the fifth floor. You'll only be allowed in two at a time."

Mac nodded her head and stood up. Without waiting for anyone else, she turned, trying to remember where the elevator was.

"This way, Mac." AJ took hold of her arm and led her down the hall.

Once they reached the silver doors, AJ turned. "Harriet, why don't you and the others accompany her upstairs. I've got a few calls to make."

"Yes, sir."

Stepping off the elevator on the fifth floor, everyone settled into the waiting area outside the large double doors. Harriet kept a firm grip on Mac's arm, continuing towards the nurses' station.

"We're looking for Captain Rabb," Harriet offered.

"Room 3." The soft-spoken nurse pointed across the hall, slightly to the right. Most of the rooms in the Intensive Care Unit were nothing more than curtained cubicles crammed with equipment and little room to move. Directly in front of the nurses' station there were three slightly larger rooms on the other side of a semi glass wall. The last of these was unusually large for ICU. There was a small area with a table and some cabinets for supplies, then a second glass wall dividing the room. The room had plenty of space for equipment around the bed and a good six feet of space off to the right. There was even a large window with a glorious view of the physicians' parking lot.

Mac's stride grew shorter and shorter as she approached the open door. It was as if her subconscious thought maybe if she didn't see him, then none of this would be true.

The minute her gaze fell on her husband, the tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, Harm." Pressing her lips tightly together, she took the last few steps into the room, stopping at his bedside. Reaching out to touch his hand, she was horrified at how cold he felt.

"It's me, handsome. I'm here." Mac looked around for a chair.

Harriet immediately dragged a small chair from the corner of the room and slipped it under Mac.

"You know, you scared at least ten years off my life." Mac tried to smile, to sound less worried, but it wasn't easy.

Harriet stood quietly in the background, batting back her own tears as she watched Mac quietly carry on a one-sided conversation. She almost smiled when she remembered the day they told her they'd be getting married.

**Roberts' apartment**

**Roslyn Virginia**

**May 1999**

"He's beautiful, Harriet," Mac cooed over the baby, Harm standing beside her.

"Would you like to hold him?" Harriet directed at Harm.

"Maybe I should see if Bud needs some help getting those drinks." Harm turned towards the kitchen.

"Chicken!" Harriet called after him. "Do you want to hold him?" Harriet looked at Mac

"May I?"

"Of course, you're his godmother. I just don't know what we'll have to do to get Chicken Little out there to try." Harriet enjoyed teasing Harm. There wasn't very much he wasn't good at, and finding a weakness she could play with was currently very appealing.

"He looks good on you," Harriet commented quietly as Mac settled baby AJ into the crook of her elbow.

"Yeah," Mac answered wistfully.

A couple of drinks in hand, Harm was walking back into the room when he spotted Mac with the baby snuggled in her arms. "He looks good on you," he repeated, not having heard Harriet.

"Now where have I heard that before?" Harriet giggled to herself. Surprised when Harm set the drinks down and walked up to Mac, dropped his hand on her shoulder, and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, my God," Harriet gasped loudly.

Realizing what he'd just done, Harm blushed several shades of red. It had seemed so natural after the last couple of days to show Mac what he was feeling that he'd completely forgotten there was someone else in the room. Never mind that this particular someone had no idea what was going on, and could act as an early warning system for any major city.

"Alright- spill it," Harriet insisted, her hands on her hips

"Spill what?" Bud had come rushing back to the room at the sound of his wife's cry, two more drinks in hand.

"They're kissing."

"What?" Bud looked at Harm and Mac then back at his wife.

"That's not kissing." Raising one eyebrow at Mac, Harm watched as she laid the baby down in the bassinet, then pulled her fully into his arms. "This is."

Remembering in the back of his mind that they had an audience and needed to keep this simple, Harm tried to keep a lid on the sensations quickly rushing through him. The feel of Mac's body gently pressing against his was enough to make him want to drag her off to the nearest bedroom, but at the moment that simply wasn't an option.

The sound of glass crashing to the floor dragged Harm's attention away from the woman in his arms.

"Told you," Harriet laughed loudly, moving to help her husband pick up the broken pieces of glass.

Sliding his arm around Mac's waist, Harm turned to Harriet and Bud. "Mac and I are getting married."

This time it was Harriet who dropped the broken pieces of glass she'd been holding on the floor. "Married?" she slowly stood up, ignoring the new mess she'd made. "How long have you been dating?"

"We haven't exactly been dating," Mac provided.

"Haven't been dating?" Bud finished picking up the last few remnants of shattered glass and dropped them in a nearby trashcan.

"We decided to skip over dating and go straight to engaged. That was eight days ago," Harm explained.

**Chapter 5**

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Jennifer tapped Harriet on the shoulder.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I was lost in thought again." Harriet glanced back at the counter behind her, looking for the nurse and wondering if they weren't going to be very particular about the two at a time rule. When she didn't see anyone, she realized Jen must have just 'slipped' past the desk.

"The Admiral spoke with Mrs. Burnett. She'll be taking the first flight out in the morning. He's also on his way to your house. Sue called him to say that Tom and Danny wanted to be with Mikey so, with Meredith's okay, she took them to your house. She's on her way back here with some of the Colonel's things, just in case she stays the night."

"Is everyone still in the waiting room?" Harriet asked.

"I sent my husband home, no sense in all of us losing sleep. I also convinced Sturgis and Varese to go home and rest. We're going to need to pace ourselves. Take turns."

"That's excellent advice. My husband is out of town for the weekend. You should go keep yours company."

"With all due respect, ma'am, I think you should be home with the boys. I'll stay here with the Colonel, at least until they throw me out," Jen smiled impishly. This wouldn't be the first time she'd slid under the radar where she didn't belong.

Harriet chuckled. "You may have a point, Chief Petty Officer." Then she stepped over to Mac, explained that she was going to go home to be with the boys and Jen would be staying with her a little longer, kissed her on the cheek, patted Harm on the hand, and quickly turned back towards Jen.

Hugging Harriet goodbye, Jen stepped further into the room.

"Can I get you something, Colonel? More coffee?"

Mac stared blankly at the pretty young woman. She was having a hard time taking everything in. "Did Harriet leave?"

"Yes, ma'am. She just said goodbye."

Mac nodded her head and looked back at Harm.

Jen hesitated, wondering if she should ask the Colonel again about something to eat or drink. Maybe it was best to just let her sit. When Sue got here with whatever she was bringing, Jen would try again.

Moving over to the opposite corner of the unusually large room, Jen sat down heavily. Watching the Captain lay so still and pale was one of the saddest things she'd ever felt. She could see that famous flyboy smile in her mind. He could have charmed a snake with that smile.

**London Headquarters**

**Harm's Office**

**September 2005**

"Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?"

"That will be all Petty Officer." Harm turned back to his guest from Scotland Yard. "I appreciate your bringing Seaman Hornsby personally."

"It was the least I could do. These young blokes get in over their head sometimes. You know fun in the big city and all." The tall, young man smiled nonchalantly at Harm. American sailors getting in with the wrong companionship in the wrong part of town wasn't anything new.

"Petty Officer Coates will have the paperwork ready for you shortly. Our MPs will take over from here." This was only the second time Harm had dealt with Inspector Robert Meyers. He was a pleasant man and very keen on keeping up good relations with the Americans, something you didn't see very much of in the current political climate.

"If it's not too forward of me, I didn't see a ring. Would that be Miss Petty Officer, or Mrs. Petty Officer?" Meyers had waited to hear the final click of the closing door before asking Harm of the attractive woman's marital status.

Harm couldn't help the small grin that twisted on one side of his face. "That would be Miss."

"Any reason it might be considered inappropriate for me to invite the lovely lady to lunch?"

Before Harm could answer, Jen was on the intercom announcing Mac's arrival.

"Send her in, Jen."

In three short strides, Harm was holding the door open for Mac.

"Well, who is this?" Bob Meyers rose from his seat, immediately captivated by the most adorable toothless grin.

"This is Thomas Harmon Rabb," Mac answered proudly. Perched in his stroller, her young son had no hair, no teeth, and yet those green eyes and Rabb smile won over everyone who crossed his path. The same thing had happened with Trisha. She had her mom's dark hair and complexion, but she'd inherited her dad's green eyes and captivating smile.

Tapping first at the still open door, Jen stepped into the room at Harm's nod.

"I have the papers you needed." She reached around baby Tom and gave her boss the miscellaneous release forms he had requested. "How is my big boy doing today?" Jen stuck her finger under Tommy's adorable double chin, happily playing with the baby while she waited for Harm to sign the papers.

"He's enjoying all the attention," Mac volunteered.

"May I, ma'am?" Jen barely waited for a response. Whenever Mac brought the baby to the office, she always allowed Jen to hold him for at least a little while.

"Go right ahead."

Jen unsnapped the buckle from the stroller, turned back to the Captain to receive the signed papers, and merrily made her way out the door with her latest bundle.

Waiting once again until she'd closed the door behind her, "As we were saying," Bobby turned to Harm, "any reason I can't extend an invitation to lunch?"

Harm looked at Mac. "Is there?"

Mac glanced back and forth between the two men, understanding suddenly dawning. "Well, legally speaking, there are no restrictions in the UCMJ that I know of that would prohibit an enlisted person from taking her meals with a foreign citizen, assuming of course, you're not an enemy spy?"

"I'm sorry. Mac, this is Inspector Bob Meyers, Scotland Yard. Bob, this is my wife, Sarah."

Extending her hand to the now blushing young man, Mac smiled. "But, that wasn't what you wanted to know was it?"

"No, ma'am," Bob smiled bashfully.

"I don't believe there are any 'obstacles' that would prevent the Petty Officer from accepting an invitation." Turning to Harm, Mac continued. "It is Jennifer we're talking about here, right?"

Harm and the Inspector both nodded.

"In that case, it's been a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Rabb. Captain, thanks for everything, and feel free to put in a good word for me. I think I'd best take my leave."

"You can get your copy of the release forms from Jennifer when you leave." Harm walked over to his wife. "What do you think? Will she say yes?"

"She'd have to be an idiot not to. He's tall, blond, blue eyed, and has an accent that could melt your knees."

"Thinking of trading me in?"

"Nonsense, I have a soft spot for men in uniform." Mac reached up and gently kissed Harm on the lips. "Shall we peek?"

"That wouldn't be very dignified." Harm raised one eyebrow at her.

"No, it wouldn't." Mac turned around and propped herself behind the slightly open large oak door.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" Harm asked from over her shoulder.

"Barely."

"Thank you," Bob accepted the papers he needed from the Petty Officer. "Mind if I hold him a minute?"

"Uh, no, I guess not." Jen handed over the little boy.

"Ooh, he's a solid little chap, isn't he?" Bobby chuckled in amusement.

"He seems to like you."

"Of course he does. All babies are excellent judges of character." Bob glanced at Jen's reaction out of the corner of his eye.

"That's what they say." Jen was trying very hard not to blush. Only the English could stand in a public office chatting about babies and make it sound like they were quoting love sonnets.

"Since baby Tom here is witness to my fine character, any chance you might be free to join me for lunch?"

"Uh..."

"Ooph," Harm groaned at the feel of his wife's elbow jabbing him none too delicately in the ribs.

"Hurry up and give her time off," Mac encouraged.

Giving his wife, a quick peck on the temple, Harm opened the door.

"Jen, Mac and I will be joining some friends for lunch. If you'd like to take a little longer for lunch today, that will be fine." Trying not to look too conspicuous, Harm took Tommy from Bob Meyers and placed him back in the stroller, leaving the two new friends alone as quickly as he and Mac could.

"I'd say your boss thinks lunch is a good idea," Bob chuckled.

"I guess the answer is yes." She was going to have to remember to thank Harm for this some day, even if she suspected that Mac most likely had a hand in it as well.

**Chapter 6**

**Bethesda Naval Hospital**

**0045**

"Mac, honey," Sue spoke softly. "Mac?" she repeated.

"She hasn't been very talkative," Jen explained. Mac had spent the last hour, since Jen had sent Harriet home, simply holding Harm's hand. Her focus alternated from Harm's face to the equipment surrounding him and back again.

"Mac, the nurses say you have to go home. There's no place up here for you to stay." At least no place comfortable, Sue thought.

"I'm not leaving him."

"Honey, it's only for a few hours. He's going to sleep through the night and you need your rest," Sue tried again.

"She's right, ma'am. I can stay a little longer if you like."

"I'm not leaving him." Mac didn't even bother to look up at either woman.

Silently, Sue nodded at the nurse behind the counter. The older woman had been very understanding about letting Sue come in to convince Mac it was time to go home. Though visiting hours had technically ended hours ago, the nurses were pretty lenient about allowing family to stay in the room as long as they stayed out of the way. The nurse had been so kind in offering to enforce the rules to help her get Mac home, Sue decided there was no need to mention only Mac was immediate family.

Recognizing why she was being signaled, Kathy Spencer quickly made her way to where Sue was waiting. "I'm afraid it's after midnight, Mrs. Rabb. You're going to have to go home now. It's unlikely he'll wake up before morning." She waited for some response. She'd seen this all too often. "You don't want him to wake up and see you looking like something the cat dragged in, do you?"

That got Mac's attention, as the nurse had hoped it would. "Can I stay a little longer?"

The nurse and Sue glanced at each other.

"Fifteen more minutes, but at 0100 you'll need to go." Kathy smiled as brightly as she could. She didn't want to be an ogre, but this was for the best. Mrs. Rabb was undoubtedly going to have a long haul ahead of her and she wouldn't do anyone any good if she burned out before the battle had begun.

**Roberts' House**

**0130**

Harriet had been waiting at the living room window for any sign of her friend. As soon as she'd gotten home from the hospital, she had called Sue and worked out a plan bringing Mac to her house. They had agreed that it would be better if Mac came to Harriet's where Tommy was spending the night. When Mac woke up in the morning, she would hopefully find some comfort in her son's presence.

As soon as she saw the car pull into the driveway, Harriet opened the front door just a crack, then hurried to the kitchen to turn on the kettle. It was something she and Bud had gotten used to after four years in England. Somehow, microwaved tea just didn't seem the same anymore.

"Yoo hoo, Harriet? We're here," Sue called from the front hall, hanging her and Mac's purses on the coat rack.

"In here. Thought I'd put on some nice herbal tea." A good dose of sleepy time tea with half a tranquilizer should ensure Mac would get at least a little sleep.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll skip the tea. I'm just going to go sit with Tommy a little while."

"Sure, the boys are in the den. Meredith set them up with a Harry Potter marathon," Harriet explained.

"Maybe I'll have the tea later," Mac offered as consolation.

Harriet and Sue shrugged at each other as they watched their friend tiptoe into the den.

Mac sat down on the floor next to her six-year old son. Smiling softly, she began running her fingers gently through his hair, brushing it away from his face. He was such a sweet looking little boy.

**Beach at Pearl Harbor**

**September 10, 2004**

"This is the best idea you've had yet." Mac leaned her head back letting the strong Hawaiian sun warm her face.

"Well, if the Staff Judge Advocate hadn't been so hell bent on working right up to the last minute of this pregnancy, we could have spent a lot more time relaxing on the beach." Harm kept his eyes on three-year old Trisha, who was making sand-pies at the foot of the blanket.

"Yeah, right. Like the Trial Services XO is really going to have time to take his pregnant wife to the beach on a regular basis?" Mac couldn't help chuckling, even if it made breathing a little difficult with her rather whale-like physique.

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Harm leaned over and kissed Mac lightly on the cheek. Unable to resist how beautiful his wife looked with her eyes closed and her hair blowing in the fresh breeze, Harm inched a little closer, laying feathery kisses across her face until he reached his destination, and began nibbling at the back of her earlobe.

"Cut that out!" Mac smacked Harm lightly across the arm, her eyes opening wide, her grin even wider. "That's what got us in this predicament in the first place," she chuckled heartily.

"Is that so bad?" Harm returned to his favorite spot and continued his oral exploration.

"You know it isn't." Mac turned as much as her girth allowed so she could kiss her husband fully on the lips.

"Daddy?" a small voice sounded at their sides.

"Yes, pumpkin?" Harm winked at Mac and reached out to pull his little girl into his lap.

"You want to make a castle?"

"Sure!" Springing up, Harm whirled his daughter over his head, making loud airplane engine noises while running to the water's edge.

Mac laughed out loud, watching her daughter in a fit of giggles as her daddy did his own version of teaching her to fly. She wasn't sure which one of them was having more fun, but she couldn't imagine life being any sweeter.

The castle had barely gotten past the foundation level when Mac felt an odd twinge in her lower side. She'd been so relaxed in the warm sun that she'd practically forgotten the irritating backache that had plagued her since the middle of the night. It was one of the main reasons Harm had decided to take the day off and bring the family to the beach.

Taking a deep breath, Mac slowly turned around, awkwardly trying to get up off the blanket. By the time she'd made it to the shoreline where her family was merrily constructing the next major architectural achievement in Hawaiian history, a much stronger pain stopped her in her tracks.

"Harm," Mac called nearly breathless.

"Hmm?" he asked without looking up from the sand.

"You know how junior here isn't due for another week?"

"Yeah?" This time Harm looked up, not liking the sound of Mac's voice. The minute he saw the look on her face, he knew.

When Mac's eyes locked with Harm's, she nodded in silent assent, slowly letting out the breath she'd been holding through the most recent sharp pain.

"Trisha, we're going to have to finish the castle later." Harm backed away from the castle and walked over by his daughter.

"Why?" the little girl whined.

"Because I have to take you to Mrs. Baxter's."

"Is Tommy coming?" Trisha's eyes lit up brilliantly. She had been looking forward to a baby brother of her own. Actually, she'd been looking forward to the new ballet slippers her mom and dad had said her brother would be bringing her as a present for his birthday.

"I think so," Harm smiled, tossing all the sand utensils into a bucket and swooping his daughter onto his hip. Harm looked at Mac. "Do you need some help?"

"No, let's just get a move on it." By now she was biting her lower lip. She should have remembered the miserable backache she'd had for two days before Trisha was born.

Stopping halfway between the water and the parking lot, Mac had to double over taking a deep breath. This was going to be harder than she'd thought. Walking in the sand wasn't very much fun when you were nine months pregnant. It was near impossible in labor.

Harm glanced a few feet behind him and spotted Mac hunched over in obvious discomfort. Rushing back a few steps, "Let me get her strapped into the car and I'll be right back," he suggested hurriedly.

Mac merely nodded, still biting her lower lip.

Harm ran as fast as he could without worrying his daughter. When he finally had both his ladies in the car, he called Mrs. Baxter and asked if she'd mind picking Trisha up at the hospital. He was fairly sure he could either get Mac to the hospital on time or Trisha to the sitter's house, but it was unlikely he could do both.

Hanging up the phone, Harm reached across and grabbed Mac's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Are you with me, Marine?"

"Do I have a choice?" she almost laughed between breaths. "I guess this means he's going to be a Marine," Mac panted.

"Why?" Harm glanced quickly at Mac, stepping a little harder on the gas pedal at her heavy breathing.

"If he were going to be a squid like you, he'd have been late." Mac let out another heavy breath. "I just hope he isn't going to be rushing us the rest of our lives," Mac teased, squeezing her husband's hand.

**Chapter 7**

Mac had showered and dressed long before anyone else in the house was up. She had been dozing next to Tommy, but was unable to really sleep. Nightmares of life without Harm kept dragging her back from a restless sleep.

She'd had to force herself not to rush through breakfast. For her son's sake she needed to take her time, try to reassure him. He seemed to understand Daddy was in a special hospital room where little boys weren't allowed to visit, but Mac could tell he was scared.

"As soon as they let Dad into a regular room, I promise I'll come get you and take you to see him," Mac had assured Tommy. He didn't seem totally convinced, but he could sense something wasn't right and this wasn't a time to push Mommy. He was such a good kid. His penchant for not wanting to ever be late had indeed proven on occasion to be a thorn in their sides, especially for Harm, who had a penchant, despite his years of military service, to not always be very punctual. Though he was never late for military business, Harm found it difficult to be early for much else. If the only thing Mac ever had to complain about was that her son always rushed her, she would forever be thankful.

Somewhere in the back of her mind Mac had hoped when she walked into Harm's room, she'd find him sitting up and smiling at the nurses. She'd give almost anything to see one of his full-blown flyboy smiles.

"Good morning, Mrs. Rabb."

"Morning. Any change?" Mac asked the unfamiliar nurse.

"I'm afraid not."

"Has the doctor given any indication of how long it will be before he'll wake up?" Mac's stomach lurched at the flash of pity she saw in the woman's eyes.

"The doctor hasn't been in for rounds yet this morning. He usually comes in as soon as he's done with surgery."

"Surely you've seen cases like this before. How long does it usually take?" Mac could see the hesitation in the woman's face. The nurse obviously knew the answer and didn't want to say.

"What is it?" Mac repeated.

"I'm not a doctor, ma'am. Every person is different. I suggest you ask Dr. Pena." As quickly as she could, the nurse hurried back to her post, safely hidden behind the tall counter.

"They say it helps if you talk to them," a soft voice came from behind.

Mac looked over her shoulder, surprised to see Chaplain Turner.

"My son phoned me last night and told me what happened. I thought I'd come visit, if you don't mind."

"Of course not." Mac stood up to greet the man who had been such an inspiration to them through the years.

"We had a nice visit this morning before you got here. I was just coming back from the men's room to say goodbye. I know he'll be in good hands now."

"Thank you, Chaplain. For everything." Mac gave him a heartfelt hug.

"It will be alright, Colonel. Have faith." Patting her hand gently, it was with a heavy heart, Mathew Turner walked away.

"How about that? We haven't seen Chaplain Turner since you got your promotion and orders to Pearl. It was awfully nice of him to stop by, don't you think?" Shifting her chair so she could sit closer to Harm, Mac rested both her arms on the bed, tightly gripping his hand in hers.

"Sue dropped me off. She's on her way to the airport to pick up your mom. The boys are staying with Harriet. I think AJ and Meredith are coming by later. Sturgis and Varese cancelled their weekend in New York," Mac rambled on trying not to cry. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to smile.

"Last night after I went to Bud and Harriet's I laid down next to Tommy and was remembering the day he was born. You'd think you'd have thought you'd get better at labor and delivery with practice," Mac chuckled at the memory.

**Naval Regional Hospital**

**Oahu, Hawaii Sept 10, 2004**

Harm and Mac walked slowly into the emergency room of the large hospital. "My wife is having a baby," Harm announced unnecessarily.

"I can see that," the nurse snapped. "Let me get you a wheelchair, ma'am. Is this your first?"

Harm's eyes flew open wide. Without saying a word, he turned around and ran back out the door.

"No," Mac smiled. "My husband just went to get our daughter from the car." He'd pulled the car up to the emergency room and insisted on helping Mac into the hospital. Though they'd barely been in the front door two seconds when he accosted the first nurse he saw with his obvious revelation, it was clear to Mac by his reaction that he'd already forgotten Trisha was still in the back seat.

"How long have you been in labor?" the nurse asked, pushing Mac over to the reception desk.

"I think my back labor started somewhere around three o'clock this morning, but the actual labor pains started about an hour ago."

"How far apart are they?"

Mac took a deep breath. Squinting her eyes, through clenched teeth, she continued, "Three minutes and ten seconds."

The nurse's eyebrows rode up to her hairline before curling into a large question mark. She looked down at her watch, timing the duration of the contraction and wondering just how accurate this woman was. "Oh, we'd better get you upstairs. We'll have your husband give the desk here your information."

Just then Mrs. Baxter came rushing through the sliding glass doors. "Oh, I got here as fast as I could. I've never had a baby before."

The nurse looked up at the older woman, curiously.

"I mean, I've never been in on someone else having a baby so soon. This is so exciting. Much more fun than when I had my kids." Grinning broadly, she looked around. "Where's Trisha?"

"She's with Harm, he's parking the car. Can you tell him he needs to check me in and then meet me upstairs in maternity?"

"Sure thing, Mac." Evelyn Baxter patted Mac reassuringly on the back. "Don't you worry about a thing. I'll take care of everything." Deciding to get a head start on the paperwork, Evelyn stepped over to the counter and began giving the receptionist what little information she knew about the Rabbs.

The entire emergency waiting area snapped around at the sound of screeching tires. Evelyn could see Harm running into the building, waving apologetically to a very pale man behind the wheel of the SUV that obviously had just come within inches of making Harm the hospital's next patient.

"Oh, thank God, Evelyn. Where's Mac?"

"They just took her upstairs. Here, give me Patricia, and you give this nice lady the rest of the information she needs."

"She's having a baby. What more do they want to know?" Harm had that 'duh' look on his face.

"I believe there's some nasty business about social security numbers, allergies, doctor's name. I'm sure it won't take but a minute. Go on, Commander."

Evelyn shook her head in amusement. What must he have been like when Trisha was born? Debating whether or not she should stick around, Evelyn finally decided Harm was a big boy and headed home with their firstborn.

As soon as Harm finished admitting Mac, he didn't bother waiting for the elevator, instead he took the stairs up to the third floor, two at a time.

Panting his way to the maternity ward's nursing station, Harm leaned heavily on the counter, trying to catch his breath.

A nurse came rushing down the hall as soon as she spotted him. "Sir, if you're having a heart attack you should be downstairs." Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed his arm to check his pulse.

"No, it's my wife. She's having a baby."

"That may be the case, but if we don't get you calmed down, you're going to spend the day in the ER."

"Sarah Rabb," Harm took a long deliberate breath, slowing his heart rate.

Satisfied the good-looking man was not having a heart attack, the nurse stepped around to type the name into the computer.

"Is that Commander Rabb?" A voice approached from down the hall.

"Yes," Harm stood up straight.

"You'd better get a move on it, sir. Colonel Rabb is already 10 centimeters dilated and ready to push." Turning around, the nurse in pink hurried back down the hall with Harm on her heels.

"You're fully effaced, Mac. Let's push this baby out," Dr. Rovner encouraged.

"NO. Not till Harm gets here."

"I'm here, I'm here." Harm quickly donned the required blue robe and hurried to his wife's side. "Didn't think I'd let you do this without me, did you?"

"Don't go there, sailor," Mac huffed through gritted teeth.

Only a few pushes later, the doctor smiled up at them. "This is it. One more push and the shoulders will be out."

Harm wiped Mac's brow and gently kissed her forehead as he propped her weight against him.

"Here he comes. Push. Push," the doctor repeated.

Mac clenched her muscles, pushing with all her might. Harm softly encouraged her, "You can do it, babe."

"And... here he is. Looks like you were right. It's a boy!"

Thomas Harmon Rabb let out a strong wail announcing his arrival. His father broke into a broad grin. Squeezing his wife's hand, Harm leaned over and whispered in Mac's ear, "I love you, Mrs. Rabb. Thank you."

**Chapter 8**

**Bethesda Hospital**

**Later that morning**

**2010**

Mac had been talking to Harm nearly nonstop since she'd arrived at the hospital this morning. She was recounting Tommy's first birthday in England when the doctor came by to check on him.

"He had a quiet night," the doctor smiled at Mac.

"Is that a surprise?" Mac had been trying to read the doctor's expression. He would have made a good Marine. She had no idea what he might be thinking.

"Honestly? Yes, a little." He gave Mac a reassuring smile before continuing with his examination.

"I've noticed there's some blood in his urine bag. Is that anything serious?" Mac watched the doctor as he checked Harm's pupils.

"His kidneys were badly bruised. A little bleeding is expected. It's nothing to worry about." The doctor put his pen light back in his pocket and walked around to the foot of the bed.

"How long will he have to be on the respirator?"

"He's already showing improved oxygen levels, but there's no way of telling how long he'll need to stay on it." The doctor wasn't going to add 'or if he'll always need it.'

"What about waking up? Is the swelling going down? Is there any indication of when he might wake up?" Mac made a valiant effort to control her emotions.

"These lines on his head are monitoring the pressure. I can tell you if the pressure begins to decrease, but there's no way to predict when," this time the doctor had to say it, "or IF he'll wake up."

Tightening her grip on Harm's hand, Mac glared long and hard at the doctor. "He will wake up." Turning back to look at Harm, she repeated softly. "He will."

"I wouldn't argue with her if I were you, doctor. My daughter-in-law has a nasty right cross. Besides, she's never wrong." Trish Burnett held her chin up high as she walked up next to Mac.

"Hi, Mom." Mac stood up clumsily.

The two women hugged tightly, completely ignoring the doctor's presence, each drawing much-needed strength from the other.

"So what good news do you have for me?" Trish looked the doctor in the eye.

"He's still alive, ma'am."

"Don't sell my son short. He's come through worse. He can do it again." Trish seriously considered making the doctor wash his mouth out with soap.

"I won't, ma'am. I promise. If either of you two ladies have any more questions, just ask the nurses and someone will have me paged."

"A man of few words, isn't he?" Trish commented sardonically after the door had closed, dropping her purse in an empty chair and walking to the other side of the bed.

"Here, Mom, you take my seat."

"No, thanks. I've been on a plane for five hours straight. I'm ready to stretch my legs." Brushing her hand softly across his brow, she bent over her sleeping son. "I guess this is one of those times I can't kiss the boo boo and make it better."

"You've had a long flight. Would you like me to get you something to eat or drink?" Mac offered, fighting the tears that were once again threatening to overflow.

"No, Sue insisted we get some breakfast on the way. I finally agreed to orange juice and an egg McMuffin." Trish laughed to herself, "Think if we tell Harm I drove through Macdonald's it might wake him up?"

"It's worth a try," Mac chuckled, the first real chuckle she'd had in almost twenty hours. "Did Sue go home?"

"Yes, Jennifer called when we were on the road. She's coming by this morning." Trish leaned her hip, almost sitting on the side of the bed. "You know, on the plane ride over I started remembering what it felt like after his ramp strike, the fear and pain. Not knowing if he'd be alive or dead when I saw him next. And then, just like that I remembered the day he finally fessed up you two were getting married."

Trish slid off the side of the bed and pulled the other chair up close.

"Did I ever tell you that only a year before, this man stood on my back deck and swore you and he were just friends? Wouldn't even let me approach the subject of you and he as an item." Trish shook her head slowly.

"I believe you said something or other about that once or twice, yes," Mac smiled.

**Burnett residence**

**San Diego California**

**May 1999**

Trish could hear the phone ringing from the deck where she and Frank had been enjoying a late lunch.

"Senora Burnett, the telephone is for you. Your son."

"Harm? I wonder what it could be?" Trish commented to her husband, accepting the cordless phone from her housekeeper.

"Hello, Harm?"

"Hi, Mom." Harm pulled Mac off the side of the chair and into his lap. He'd been avoiding making the phone call all morning. He hadn't figured out a way to explain to his mother that he was about to marry a woman he had never admitted to dating. Well, in actuality, he had never dated her at all, but that wasn't going to be any easier to explain to his mother.

"You sound too good for something to be wrong." Trish could hear the laughter in her son's voice.

"Why should anything be wrong?" Harm nibbled quietly at Mac's neck, forcing her to let out a squelched giggle.

"What was that? Is someone with you?" Trish hesitated, straining to make out the muffled sounds on the other end of the phone.

"Stop that," Mac whispered. "She's going to hear. Just tell her and get it over with."

"Harmon Rabb, what is going on?" Trish stood up and turned to face the shore.

"I thought you wanted to be a grandmother?" Harm tugged at Mac, trying to pull her close enough to kiss again.

"What?" Trish dropped back in her seat.

"I'm trying my best, but Mac won't cooperate."

Mac's jaw dropped to the floor as her eyes sprang open wider than a silver dollar.

"Harmon Rabb!" Trish was completely confused, "Are you trying to tell me you're calling me to tell me you're fooling around with Mac?"

This time Frank's jaw dropped slightly as he leaned in to hear the conversation.

"That wasn't exactly why I called, but it doesn't sound like a bad idea, does it?"

Stupefied, Trish looked up at her husband. Her son had finally lost his mind. He was making no sense.

"Ow!" Harm exclaimed, soothingly rubbing the now sore arm where Mac had just slugged him for teasing his mom, not to mention embarrassing the dickens out of her in front of her future mother-in-law.

"Okay, okay," Harm defended to both his mom and Mac. "Mac and I are getting married."

"Married?" Trish sprang up again. "To Mac?"

"Yes, Mom. Mac's agreed to marry me."

"You're sure?" Trish looked over at her husband's questioning glare and mouthed, 'He's marrying Mac.'

"Of course I'm sure." Turning to Mac, "You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

Deciding all's fair in love and war, Mac leaned in and began licking and nibbling at Harm's collarbone. Her fingers undid his top button and swirled playfully with the hair on his chest.

"I'm sure." Harm swallowed hard, his eyes almost rolling back in his head at the fire Mac was starting.

"Let me to talk to her."

"She wants... to talk ... to you." Harm gulped, handing Mac the handset as her fingers trailed a path down his front.

"Hello, Mrs. Burnett," Mac cooed into the phone, grinning impishly at Harm.

"Has my son finally smartened up? Did he really ask you to marry him?"

"Yes, ma'am, he did."

Trish fell back in the seat almost dropping the phone. "He's finally getting married," she said aloud.

Noticing the odd look on his wife's face, Frank retrieved the phone from her weakening grip.

"Have you set a date yet?"

"Yes, sir, October 9th. It's the first Saturday available at Annapolis."

**Chapter 9**

**Virginia 2010**

**Sunday evening Day 3**

One by one, each of Harm and Mac's friends had taken on the responsibility of seeing that Trish and Mac took time to eat and rest. Occasionally, over the last two days, Sturgis or AJ had to almost forcibly remove one of the stubborn women from their chairs, but it had to be done.

Exhausted, but unwilling to admit it, Mac had come home to sleep in her own bed for the first time since the accident. Tommy was watching a Scooby Doo movie and Trisha was expected home any minute. Grandma Trish had insisted on staying at the hospital. She had discovered the family room had a decent sofa and would periodically go lie down whenever her back started rejecting the uncomfortable chair at Harm's bedside.

Barring any new complications, in another twenty-four hours Harm could be moved to a new floor. He'd gone almost 48 hours without any abnormalities. His temperature and heart rate had remained normal. There had been some concern with an initial redness around his incision, but that seemed to have been nothing important as the redness disappeared and it was now beginning to heal nicely. Even his urine output had started improving. Mac had originally been worried when the doctor had told her Harm's kidney had been bruised, but she knew things would get better when they could move Harm into a regular room and his children could visit. There was no better medicine for Harm than his kids.

**Rabb Flat**

**London England**

**2007**

"I'm afraid he won't be in today either, Jen. He was up vomiting most of the night. I still can't get him to hold down any food at all. I tried giving him some dry toast and it just came back up."

"It seems to be going around, ma'am. Most of the people it's stricken have been down for at least four or five days."

"I just hope the kids don't get it. Trisha has the next two days off for parent teacher conferences."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed, ma'am."

"Thanks, Jen." Mac could hear Harm moaning from all the way down the hall.

"Maaaac." He sounded like he was on his deathbed.

"Coming." If he kept that up he was going to wake the entire neighborhood. "What's the matter, big boy?" Mac tried to sound as sympathetic as possible, rounding the corner and walking up to the bed.

"My head feels like it's going to split in two. Could you please bring me a couple of Tylenol?"

"Be right back." Mac quickly brought back a couple of pills and a small glass of ginger ale without ice.

"Thanks," Harm croaked.

"Don't tell me your throat is hurting you too?"

"No, just dry." Harm swallowed the two pills and snuggled back under the covers. "Aren't you going to tuck me in?"

His voice sounded so small and helpless, Mac couldn't resist chuckling softly. "Yes, dear." She pulled the covers high around his neck and gently kissed his forehead. His fever was pretty high. She wished he could keep liquids down. With any luck, the ginger ale would help settle his stomach.

Within the hour Trisha and Tommy had both joined Mac in the kitchen for breakfast and then continued on to their favorite spot in front of the telly while Mac cleaned up and started a load of laundry.

"Trisha, make sure you guys keep it quiet. Remember Dad is sleeping. He's not feeling well." Mac had no idea what mothers who didn't believe in TV did, but she was very thankful for Veggie Tales and Barney. Though, her personal favorite was Wishbone. She couldn't help thinking it was a shame more episodes hadn't been made. The lead dog made it entertaining enough for three year old Tommy, yet crisp enough for six-year old Trisha.

Mac was thrilled with how quiet the kids had been. Normally there would be at least one or two small outbreaks over a misplaced toy, or which tape to watch. Mac had actually managed to clean the kitchen, including mopping the floor, and fold a load of wash before starting another. Carrying the clean clothes to the bedrooms, Mac was a little startled not to see the kids in front of the TV. When she made it to Trisha's empty room and then Tommy's, she knew exactly where she'd find them. What she hadn't expected was the scene before her.

Tommy was sprawled across Harm's chest fast asleep and Trisha was reading her third Clifford book to her father. Harm was quietly resting, his hand drawing slow lazy circles across his son's back, his eyes lovingly focused on his young daughter.

Before Mac could say a word about disturbing Harm, he'd raised one finger to his lips indicating for Mac to stay quiet. Over the course of the day, Trisha went through every story she had, and when she ran out of books she could read, she started making up stories. Harm had managed to eat a little chicken soup for lunch and showed remarkable improvement by dinnertime. There was no medicine like being surrounded by his children.

**Rabb home**

**Virginia 2010**

"Mom," Trisha repeated.

"Oh, baby. I didn't hear you come in."

"How's Dad?" Trisha took a seat close to her mom.

"He's still sleeping. If he's doing well tomorrow they're going to move him to a room where you and Tommy can visit.

"When is he going to wake up?"

"We don't know. He bumped his brain. When the bruising goes away, then he'll wake up."

"Is he going to die?"

"Oh, no, ba..." Mac stopped herself short, wrapping her little girl in her arms. "Daddy's strong. He just needs some time. Remember, like when you were little and we lived in England? Daddy got the flu and had to stay home from work. You read to him every day until he went back to work."

"Do you think it would help if I read to him again?" Trisha knew it wasn't the same thing. She wasn't six years old anymore, but she so wanted to believe her dad would get better.

"They keep telling me he can hear us even though he's sleeping. I know it would make him very happy to hear you read to him again." Not sure she could talk about this any longer, Mac adeptly changed the subject, "So, tell me, how did the campout go?"

"It wasn't too bad. Uncle Bud is pretty funny. We got to ride the skidoos on the lake. Mr. Johnson told stories by the fireplace. The rooms were pretty cool. I shared a room with Sarah, Emily, and Victoria."

"No dads?" Mac was willing to bet the dads were off playing poker in another room.

"We all hung out together in the lodge game room 'til bedtime. Then the dads said if we promised not to stay up late, the girls could have their own rooms. It was like a slumber party."

"Was the place as nice as the last one?"

"Oh, yeah. They get better and better. I'm so glad we don't do those outdoor campouts with the Y anymore. This place was really nice. The bathrooms were HUGE. They had these big tubs, I think even Dad could have fit in there."

Mac giggled softly. Harm never wanted to take baths because he said he felt like a size eight foot slipping into a size six shoe. The first thing he'd done with every house or apartment they'd ever lived in was to raise the shower nozzles.

"Do you think maybe the four of us could go next summer? I mean, Dad would REALLY love the bathrooms."

"Well, if you're REALLY sure. We can probably discuss it. After all, we wouldn't want Dad to miss out on the chance of a lifetime."

**Chapter Ten **

Tuesday morning had started out to be a great day. Not only had they moved Harm out of intensive care and down to the Critical Care Unit, but the doctor had agreed with the respiratory therapist that Harm's SATs were high enough that he could be put on nasal oxygen instead of a full blown respirator.

Over the next few days, Harm's condition remained stable. The pressure from his closed head injury seemed to be dissipating. By the end of the week, his neurologist had signed Harm off to move to a regular floor. Once he was out of CCU, Trisha was allowed to come and read to Harm every day after school. Tommy came the first day, but didn't want to go back until Daddy was awake. Mac had been concerned when she took Tommy to visit with Harm that his not responding might have some adverse affect on Tommy, but she had promised him. At the time she made the promise, she hadn't honestly believed Harm would still be in a coma when they moved him to a regular room. She had tried her best to prepare Tommy, and hoped she wouldn't live to regret her decision.

The days were passing faster than she'd expected. Soon, the orthopedic surgeon and Harm's physician of record agreed this would be a good time to go in and repair the shoulder.

Mac paced anxiously in the waiting room. She hated the horrible feeling of helplessness that came with being at the mercy of a surgeon's timetable. Then, to add to her concerns, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made the right choice, allowing Harm to go under anesthesia again so soon after a brain trauma. The doctors assured her it was perfectly safe, but if anything happened to him she wouldn't be able to forgive herself.

Trish walked over and put her arm around her daughter in law. "He's going to be fine. You'll see."

When she finally spotted the doctor coming down the hall, there was such a difference in his walk. None of the apprehension that the emergency physician had carried was visible.

"With a little bit of hard work and physical therapy, that shoulder should be as good as new." The doctor smiled in Mac's direction.

"Thank you, doctor." Mac extended her hand to the lanky physician. "Thank you very much."

"He'll be moved from recovery back to his room shortly. You know how to reach me if you have any questions."

Mac immediately spun around and fell into Trish's embrace.

"What do you say we all grab a quick bite to eat before they bring Harm to his room?" Harriet and Varese had been keeping Mac and Trish company during the surgery, but it was Harriet who made sure to keep everyone fed.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Mac agreed. She didn't know how she would have survived these last few weeks without the support of her friends. She never had to worry about carpool or cooking. She and Trish were taking turns at home to keep the kids from feeling neglected, but it was mostly Harriet and Sue that made sure the kids got to and from where they needed to be and that a hot meal was always ready for dinner.

**Bethesda Hospital **

**Two days after shoulder surgery  
**

Trish had already gone home to meet the kids after school when Harm's doctor arrived for his afternoon rounds.

"Our hospital social worker will be coming by to see you sometime today," Dr. Pena explained to Mac. "We've done all we can for him here. It's time to consider more permanent arrangements."

"I understand," Mac nodded. She agreed, but she didn't agree. She didn't want to make more permanent arrangements. She wanted to take her husband home, awake and well. She needed him, and Lord, how she missed him.

"Did you hear that, Harm?" Mac sat down in her usual spot. Holding Harm's hand in hers as she'd done every day since she'd gotten the dreaded phone call, Mac began talking to her husband. "I don't want to make permanent arrangements. I want to bring you home." Looking around the empty room a minute, Mac looked down and kissed Harm's knuckles.

"Do you have any idea how much I miss you? I need you so much, for so many things. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since you've been gone. I'd forgotten what it was like to have a hard time sleeping." Mac glanced at Harm's silent form. It was so easy to believe he was just taking a little nap.

"I even let Lady sleep on the bed the other night. Anything not to roll over and feel the cold side of the bed. Oh, please Harm, I can't keep doing this alone anymore. I need you. We all need you." Mac dropped her forehead crying into Harm's arm. "You just have to wake up, you just have to."

Her head still resting where it had been on Harm's arm, she had fallen asleep, dreaming about the NATO ball the first year she and Harm had worked together. Instead of being concerned with protecting the princess, Harm had only had eyes for her. "I don't think of you as a sister," he cooed. What a lovely dream, dancing in Harm's arms.

It was an odd tickling sensation that finally pulled her away from her dreams. Dragging herself back to consciousness, she thought she felt something move under her cheek. Slowly lifting her head up, she stared intently at the lifeless arm beneath her. Nothing. It was always nothing. Straightening up, she stretched her now stiff neck. When she brought her head forward and looked in Harm's direction, she froze.

His eyes were open and he was watching her with the curiosity of a small child.

"Oh, Harm!" Mac practically leapt from the chair. "Oh, my God. You're awake. Oh, Harm!" Stretching her arm out to caress his face, she was startled when she felt his hand snap up grabbing firm hold of her arm.

Frowning down at his hand tightly clenching her arm,her voice turned from elation to confusion. "Harm?"

"You keep saying that," he said softly. Taking his eyes off of her for the first time, Harm glanced slowly around the room, his eyes settling a little longer on the pressure monitoring equipment to his left before he looked across at Mac's arm again.

A horrible feeling was quickly spreading through her. "Do you know where you are?"

"I'd say a hospital?"

"That's right," Mac smiled just a little. "You were in a car accident."

"You don't look like a nurse." Harm carefully let go of Mac's arm, as though trying to ensure she wouldn't try to touch him again.

Mac batted her eyes quickly. This wasn't any time to lose control. This was probably normal. He'd been in a coma. Surely he wouldn't be the first person to wake up confused.

"Let me go get a doctor. I'll be right back."

Backing out of the room, Mac spun around and pressed her back snugly against the wall for support. Dear God, give me strength. She had thought over and over about what she would do if he didn't wake up, but she never even considered what would happen if he woke up not knowing her.

"Are you okay?" Nurse Kathy asked. She was one of the few civilian nurses on the floor.

"He's awake. I need to see the doctor. I... I don't think he...remembers me." Mac let out a small whimper.

"It's okay. I'll page Dr. Pena. Just don't say anything that will frighten him, I'll be there in just a minute to check on him." Kathy patted Mac briefly on the shoulder before rushing back to the nurses' station.

Gathering all her courage, Mac pushed open the heavy door and put on the biggest smile she could fake. "Nurse Kathy says she'll be right in, as soon as she pages your doctor."

Harm stared blankly at Mac. They waited in total silence for the nurse's arrival. Mac started wishing he'd say anything at all, even if it proved he had no idea who she was. Anything was better than the pounding silence.

"Welcome to the world of the living, Captain," Kathy greeted cheerily. When she reached forward to check Harm's IVs, he pulled away as he'd done with Mac. "It's okay. I'm just doing my job. I have a few things to check out."

"You're the nurse?"

"That's right," Kathy smiled again.

"Then why is she here?" Harm pointed at Mac with his free hand.

"That's Mrs. Rabb." This was the beginning of the slippery slope. How much information was too much information? Did he even know he was Mr. Rabb?

"And I know you?" Harm looked at Mac. The fear she'd seen a few moments ago was replaced by utter and total confusion. "How do I know you?"

Mac looked up at Kathy who simply nodded yes.

"I'm your wife."


	2. Chapter 11 thru 20

**Who Am I **

**Chapter 11 **

Harm's eyes opened wider than Mac had ever seen. They'd scanned over her from head to toe before turning to Kathy and silently begging for confirmation.

"That's right," Kathy nodded.

Harm didn't understand. Pulling his arm away from the nurse, he closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. This wasn't right. He wouldn't forget his wife. Why were these people lying to him? Where was he? What was going on? Taking a deep breath, his hands dropped to cover his mouth before sliding the rest of the distance away from his face.

Harm stared intently at the wall in front of him. The nurse called him 'Captain'. Captain? Captain what? Captain who? Dear God, he didn't know his own name. Could it be they were right? Were they telling him the truth? Was this woman his wife? Harm watched the nurse push some buttons on the machinery at his bedside and tinker with his IV before stepping away from the bed. No! The nurse was leaving, leaving him alone with...

Snapping his head over to his 'wife', Harm looked more closely at the woman who sat silently watching his every move. He felt like he was in a fish bowl. What did she expect from him? Letting himself look her in the eye, he felt his heart sink to his stomach. She looked so sad. Was that pain he saw in her eyes? If it was, how did he know? Could it be true? Had he really cared for this stranger?

Darting his eyes back to the nurse, Harm took another deep breath. He couldn't do this. He couldn't look that woman in the face.

Mac felt the vice tightening around her heart. She wasn't sure what was worse, not knowing if he'd ever wake up, or having him wake up and to still have lost him. She was afraid to move, afraid to speak. What was she supposed to say? How could you forget me? Us? The children! Oh God, what would it do to Tommy? His father finally wakes up and doesn't remember him. Lord help her, what a mess.

She wanted so badly to reach out, to touch him, to soothe away his doubts. When she first reached for him, he had looked like a deer trapped in the headlights. No, maybe that wasn't it. He was terrified. A deer was merely frozen. Harm looked horrified at the thought that she might actually touch him.

The deafening silence was broken with the strong whoosh of the door swinging open.

"They told me you decided to join us. Glad to see you, Captain. How are you feeling?"

"Confused." What the hell kind of a question was that? Two strange women were in his room telling him one of them was his wife. How should he feel?

"That's understandable. How do you feel physically? Is the arm causing you much discomfort?"

Harm realized for the first time that his left shoulder was bandaged and did indeed have a rather annoying throbbing sensation pounding at him, especially since he'd yanked it away from the nurse.

"It hurts, if that's what you're asking."

"On a scale of one to ten, how much is it hurting?"

Harm had to think about that a little longer than he felt he should have. What are these people trying to do to him? There is a strange woman claiming to be his wife, and this guy is worrying about number lines.

"A lot, a little?" the doctor coaxed.

"Seven," Harm huffed.

"Very good. We'll adjust your pain medication accordingly. Have you got a headache?"

Was this man trying to make him feel worse? Rubbing his temple with his good arm, "Yeah, now that you mention it, and before you ask, about a five."

The doctor chuckled to himself and nodded. He may not remember who he is, but the keen mind that made Harmon Rabb such a famous lawyer was still hiding there somewhere. Stepping around the nurse, Dr. Pena moved Harm's gown and began probing around his incision, ignoring any possible discomfort Harm might have felt at being somewhat exposed to his audience. "Any tenderness?"

Harm was staring horrified at his chest. He had a scar that ran straight down his middle as far as he could see.

"No need for concern," the doctor tried to calm Harm when he spotted his patient's reaction. "We had to repair quite a bit of damage. You were bleeding internally and opening you from sternum to pubic bone is standard procedure in emergency surgery. In time the scar will be barely noticeable, especially on your chest."

Reality came crashing down on Harm with the weight of an anvil. They were telling him the truth. "What happened?" Harm looked at all three faces in the room.

The doctor glanced quickly at Mac. She seemed to be holding up remarkably well under the circumstances, but it was time to test the waters.

"You've been in a car accident," Mac volunteered. She couldn't stand staying quiet any longer. At least this much information couldn't possibly harm his psyche, or his recovery.

"When?" Harm looked at Mac since she'd been the one to answer his question. He didn't see the doctor nodding behind him for her to answer again.

"A little over three weeks ago. You've been in a coma." Mac hoped she hadn't said more than she was supposed to.

Harm's brow inched high on his forehead again. Letting his head fall back against the pillow, he focused intently on the ceiling tiles, finally asking, "What's my name?"

"Harmon Rabb, Jr. Captain Harmon Rabb, Jr. United States Navy." Mac stared longingly at him, praying that somewhere in the current fog that must be his brain, that somewhere he could find a fragment of recollection.

"And yours?" He looked down from the ceiling at her.

"Colonel Sarah Rabb, United States Marine Corps. You call me Mac." Mac hadn't realized she had scooted closer on the edge of her seat, hoping for some flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"Mac?" Harm hadn't meant for his face to scrunch up in disbelief.

Chuckling quietly, she explained, "Yeah. It's short for my maiden name, MacKenzie." Mac's hopes sank once again when Harm returned to gazing at the ceiling.

"How long have we been married?"

"It will be 11 years on October 9th." Mac resisted the urge to reach forward and take his hand in hers.

Harm squeezed his eyes shut, still facing the ceiling. Eleven years. Why couldn't he remember? Were they good years, bad years? "Why don't I remember?"

"You were banged up pretty good in that accident, but your inability to remember is caused by the head trauma. You had some intracranial bleeding. Basically your brain banged around in your skull, was bruised, swollen, and continued bleeding. That's what put you in a coma. Now that the swelling and pressure have decreased, you've woken up," Dr. Pena explained in extremely simplistic terms.

"When will I remember?" Harm was staring intently at the doctor.

"I don't know," he shrugged.

"Will I ever remember?" Harm didn't like the body language he was reading. Not that he knew why, but he felt he was good at it and trusted his instincts.

"I don't know that either."

"Is it possible?"

"Maybe." This man definitely still had the ability to corner a witness. Dr Pena just preferred not being the person on the wrong end of the inquisition.

"In other words, not likely?" Harm understood perfectly what this man wasn't saying.

"I didn't say that. We have to wait and see. Usually bits and pieces of memory come back slowly over the first few days." Nodding at the nurse, Dr. Pena gestured for them to leave the couple alone. "Mrs. Rabb can fill you in on any questions you may have. Don't try to fill in all the gaps too fast. Take your time. I'll have Commander Brubeck, your neurologist, stop by later to check on you. When you're feeling up to it we can discuss what happens next."

Harm watched the door slowly close behind the doctor and nurse. 'What happens next.' What the hell does happen next?

"I think I want to rest now," Harm didn't even turn to look at Mac, he couldn't.

"No problem. I...I'll go call the house, check on the kids." Mac started to get up, suddenly realizing what she'd said. Turning slightly to glance at Harm she wasn't surprised to see his eyes wide in horror again.

**Chapter 12**

"We have children?" Why did this thought hurt so much? Scanning his mind quickly, he didn't seem to remember anything about them either, but he could feel a deep ache rising in his chest.

"Two. Patricia and Thomas." Mac hesitated. "Do you still want to be alone for a little while?"

"I...I don't know, but you should probably go take care of the children."

"It's okay if you want me to stay. Your mom is with them."

"My mom?" Harm tried really, really hard to remember something, anything.

Mac could see the pain in his eyes at the realization he didn't remember his own mother.

Harm rubbed his hands across his eyes. "No, you go. I think I need to rest." He didn't watch her leave, so he didn't see the slump in her normally sturdy shoulders, nor the tears she was nobly fighting not to shed.

Mom... How could he forget his own mother? No wonder he couldn't remember his wife. Was there anything he could remember? Almost frantically he searched and searched his memory banks. Was it really possible to have one's mind a blank slate? He had to remember something, anything. Surely, he had a favorite pet, an annoying aunt who always pinched his cheeks, a friend who cut school with him, a girl under some bleachers. Damn it, wasn't there anything he could remember? Harm closed his eyes. Maybe he should have stayed in the coma.

_The green eyed little boy ran freely throughout the enormous castle. Round and around the Christmas tree he ran, laughing and playing with his new toys. The oversized tree was covered in bright lights and garland. From the cold stone floor to the ceiling high over his head, the tree was a beacon of Christmas cheer. _

_The nearing sound of the roaring dragon pierced the playful world of the little boy. No, not again. Running as fast as his little feet would carry him, the boy ran down the stairs, deeper and deeper under ground. "He's coming, he's coming," he cried. _

"_What is it baby?" a sweet voice called from the bottom of the stairs. _

"_The mean monster is back, he's coming to take you away."_

"_It's alright, baby. There is no monster. No one is going to take me away." _

"_He is. I know he is. Just like he took the King." The little boy looked around the cold room stiffening at the sound of the heavy footsteps. "They're coming. I told you they'd come for you! You have to hide." _

_Running around the darkened room the little boy shook all the bars on the cells. "We have to hide." The footsteps were growing louder and louder. Turning around he couldn't see his mother anymore. "Mama? Mama?" he cried, cringing in the corner as the hollow footsteps landed loudly on firm ground. _

_Curling up as small as he could, he watched the two monsters walking closely. No wait, they weren't monsters. They were soldiers in black uniforms with gold stripes and white hats. They were coming to take his mommy, but where was mommy?_

"_You can not hide. We will find you. We will always find you," the disembodied voices filled the air._

_The little boy looked up and watched as the two giant soldiers threw a dirty, hairy man into a bamboo cage and pulled the chord letting him hang over the room like a chandelier. _

"_You're next dear," they announced to the beautiful woman beside them. "You need to take your place with the King." _

"_NO!" he screamed. "Not my mommy. Not my mommy!"_

"NO!" Harm sprang up from bed. A sharp pain shot from his shoulder, down across his chest and midsection.

"Captain!" A startled voice came through the door. "Are you okay? You're soaking!" Nurse Kathy exclaimed. Hurrying to help him lay back down, she pushed a button calling to the main desk. "I'm going to need a change of sheets in here."

Making sure her patient was lying back comfortably, Kathy retrieved a small towel from the bathroom and used it to wipe the sweat from Harm's brow. "Looks like you had a nasty dream. You just take it easy now and we'll get you into something clean and dry."

**Rabb House**

**Same time**

"Rabb residence."

"Mom."

"What's wrong, dear?" Trish could tell from Mac's single word that something was wrong, very wrong. "Is it Harm?"

"He's awake," Mac said softly.

"Thank you, God," Trish whispered softly upward.

"Mom, there may be a problem."

Trish gripped the phone tightly waiting for Mac's next words.

"He has amnesia. He doesn't seem to remember...any of us." Mac took a step from under the shade of the hospital entryway into the warmer sunlight.

Trish wasn't sure what to say. A thousand questions were running through her head, and yet, she couldn't settle on any one thing to ask.

"He wanted to be alone for a little while. I came outside to use my cell phone." Mac suddenly felt incredibly tired. "Could you please call the Admiral? I don't think I have another phone call in me."

"Of course, dear. I'll call the Admiral and find someone to stay with the kids so I can come back. Mac?"

"Mm."

"Don't worry, dear. I know it will be okay."

Mac nodded her head as though Trish could see through the phone. "I'm going to get a soda and head back upstairs. Take your time, I think he wants to be alone."

Mac strolled slowly to the nearest vending machine. The caffeine in a diet soda would hit the spot right about now. She hadn't exactly prepared herself for this possibility. She was going to have to decide how to handle it. What to tell the children. Truth be told, she was stalling. She was afraid to go back to his room, of what might happen next.

Tossing the empty soda can in the nearest trash bin, Mac straightened her shoulders. No sense in putting off the inevitable. She pushed open the door to Harm's room and practically marched inside, coming to a complete halt when she spotted the nurse fussing over him.

"What's going on?" she asked rather harshly.

"We had a nightmare," Kathy answered.

Mac almost laughed at the glare Harm shot the nurse's way for using the word 'we'. At least some of Harm was still locked somewhere inside him.

"Can I help?"

"No, thank you. We're just finishing up here." Kathy fluffed a pillow, tugged softly at Harm's gown and smiled as she walked past Mac and out the door.

Mac hesitated just a moment before moving closer to the bed. "Are you...okay?"

"It was just a dream. I don't see why everyone is making such a fuss."

"What was it about?" Mac couldn't help but wonder if his nightmare hadn't been reliving the ramp strike, or something just as painful for him, like Darlyn. There were lots of close calls in Harm's history.

"Christmas in a castle with a dragon, a king, a damsel in distress, and two nasty monsters in sailor suits," Harm answered rather coldly.

"Oh," she replied softly, "Do you mind if I sit down?"

Harm let out what sounded like an irritated sigh. "No."

Mac felt the tears threatening to fall again. Her head knew it wasn't his fault he didn't really want her around, but her heart was slowly breaking into little pieces.

"Who am I?" Harm shifted slightly, pushing the buttons at his side to raise the head of the bed.

"What do you mean?"

"I know my name, but who am I?"

"You're an honest, loyal, brave man, who just happens to be a loving father and husband, and a damn fine officer."

**Chapter 13**

Harm studied this woman carefully. For the first time since he'd woken up he really looked at her. Not as a stranger, or a schemer, but as a woman, a beautiful woman. He hadn't really noticed before.

"What do I do in the Navy?"

"You're a lawyer. More specifically, you're on staff with the CNO. Your experience in the courtroom and the cockpit makes you an especially valuable asset. You're up for your first star but most likely will get two when Cresswell retires this year. Rumor has it you're at the top of the short list for the next JAG."

Harm stared at her nearly open-mouthed. Most of what she had just told him sounded like a foreign language. "Did you say I'm a lawyer?"

"That's right. You're also a pilot."

"A pilot?"

"You used to fly tomcats."

"Tomcats?" The more questions she answered, the more confused he was getting.

"It's a type of plane." Mac could see the frustration levels rising in eyes. His entire comportment reeked of barely restrained emotions.

"I think I need to rest." This was all too much. It was like a horrible nightmare. He was sure as a lawyer and an officer in the Navy he was supposed to have understood whatever this woman just said, but he didn't. None of it.

"Yes, of course." Mac shifted awkwardly in her chair. She could probably go wait for Trish in the family room. Pushing back her chair, she was startled by the appearance of Harm's neurologist, unsure of why she hadn't heard the door open.

"I'm sorry, were you leaving?"

"I was just going down the hall for a little while, but it can wait." Mac sat back down in the increasingly uncomfortable chair.

"I'm Commander Brubeck." The tall, slender man introduced himself to Harm, then began doing a cursory examination. "I've scheduled you for a CAT scan tomorrow. That should give us a better idea of where we stand."

Mac watched the doctor carefully.

"I understand you don't remember very much at the moment," the doctor offered, flashing a small light in Harm's eyes.

"More like nothing at all," Harm scoffed, practically blinded by the blinking light.

"Did they tell you how long you've been in a coma?"

"Three weeks," Harm answered.

"How you were hurt?"

"In a car accident."

"You're a lawyer, I understand?"

"That's what they tell me."

"Where were you born?"

"Pensacola," Harm answered without hesitation, immediately looking to Mac for affirmation.

A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as she nodded yes.

"When did you graduate high school?"

"I don't know. No, wait..." Harm curled his brow. "1985?"

"That's the year you graduated the academy," Mac corrected, not sure what to make of the small amounts of information.

"Where did you meet your wife?"

Harm stared back at the doctor, embarrassed to admit he had no idea.

"Off hand, I would say Dr. Pena is correct. You appear to be suffering from post traumatic retrograde amnesia." Commander Brubeck stepped back to speak with both Harm and Mac.

"Which means?" Mac inquired.

"For now, he's having a hard time remembering things that happened before the accident. He's been able to remember the information that he's recently been given, which is a very good sign. Many amnesia victims with some brain damage are never able to convert short term information into long term memory storage. You seem to be able to process new information and recall it without any problem." Noticing neither Harm nor Mac seemed very relieved at this tidbit of information, the doctor continued, "Your injuries could have been much more severe. There are people who wake up from a closed head injury who can't remember how to talk, or walk. They have to struggle to relearn everything they learned in childhood."

"I guess there are still some things to be thankful for," Harm said quietly, not feeling very convinced.

"I suggest we take this one day at a time and see how much information you regain. Pure retrograde amnesia is very uncommon."

"What exactly is that?"

"When all memories prior to the traumatic injury are lost and never recovered."

Mac felt herself swallow a gasp. This couldn't be happening.

Before anyone could say anything else, Trish walked briskly into the room, stopping short at the sight of her son wide-awake.

"Harm," she grinned, her eyes immediately filling with tears.

"Mom?" Harm asked timidly.

"You remember me?" She moved closer to the bed, wanting to hug her son hello, but afraid of how he might react.

"No, I mean yes. You were in a dream I had. You were the damsel in distress."

"I haven't been considered a damsel in one hell of a long time, Harmon Rabb." Trish hadn't meant to use her motherly tone on him, but it just slipped out.

"I was a little boy, maybe five or six years old, playing with a toy airplane, running around a really big Christmas tree. Then I heard dragons roar and ran to find you. I seemed to think I had to protect you from being taken away like the King had been. There was a dungeon, and cells, and a haggard man in a bamboo cage, and two monsters who turned out to be men in dark uniforms with white hats."

Trish and Mac paled at his retelling. Even the doctor noticed the change in their color. "Does this have some significance for you ladies?" the doctor asked, his curiosity piqued.

"My husband was shot down in Vietnam on Christmas Eve 1969. Two officers in winter blues came to tell me the news on Christmas day. Harm had been playing with a toy F4 his dad had sent him when the men came to the door." Trish suddenly felt the need to sit down, quickly.

Noticing her wobble, Mac sprang up and offered Trish her chair.

"He was held captive in Vietnam until he was moved to a prison camp in the Soviet Union," Trish continued.

"The King?" Harm whispered softly.

Trish nodded her head. "You went all the way to Russia to find him," she told her son, dropping her hand lightly on his.

"Did I?"

"He was killed in 1980." Trish was having a hard time retelling the story. Her only consolation was the tight grip her son wrapped around her hand.

Not very comfortable with the private family moment, Commander Brubeck shifted in place. "If you'll excuse me, it's time I should be going. I'll be back tomorrow after the CAT scan. You should be off the catheter and moving around a bit by then."

Trish and Mac nodded their understanding and turned their attention back to Harm. Mac took the seat on the other side of the bed. Quietly, she sat listening to Trish recount Harm's childhood. She and Harm both had to laugh when Trish got to the story of Uncle Charlie getting caught in the chimney. Mac cringed when Trish went over Harm's trip to Vietnam at sixteen. Mac had heard it before from Harm, but hearing it again still sent shivers down her spine.

Harm listened to the retelling of his life with the impassivity of a sloth. Occasionally, he felt as though the people and places his mom mentioned were just floating around outside his reach, waiting for him to grab them and reel them in.

When Trish noticed Harm's eyelids starting to droop, she decided it was a good time to call it a day.

"It's getting pretty late and you need your rest." Trish tapped Harm lovingly on the hand.

For the first time Harm noticed how tired the two women looked. "I could say the same thing about you."

As if on cue, Mac stifled a yawn.

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep? Either one of you?" Harm asked, not needing a response. "I would like some time to myself. I think you should go home. Get a good night's sleep."

The two women nodded their assent. Despite her initial instinct to insist on staying, Mac recognized that she needed to be home with her children tonight. Things were going to be very different starting tomorrow morning.

**Chapter 14-  
**

Mac thought about it all night and well into the early hours of the morning. She finally decided it was best for the moment not to tell the children that Harm had woken up. At least not until he'd had some time to get used to the idea of being Harmon Rabb and they could discuss what to do about him seeing the children. She managed to convince Trisha that due to some scheduled tests it would be best if she skipped reading to her dad today. Much to Mac's relief, Trisha didn't put up a fuss and was more than content to just read twice as much to her dad the next day.

Trish announced that she had quite a bit of gallery business she needed to handle over the phone and would be staying home this morning. The fact that she'd have to wait until noon Eastern time before the gallery even opened meant it was very possible Trish wouldn't be spending much time at the hospital today. Mac found it rather sweet that Trish picked today of all days to have to tend to business. Somehow, Mac was fairly sure that whatever Trish had deemed so important was most likely just an excuse to leave her and Harm alone.

Harm had slept soundly through the night. If he'd had any more dreams or nightmares, he didn't remember them. Bright and early, another nurse had come in to remove the catheter and show him how to use the plastic urinal.

"You've been stationary too long. Moving around is going to be hard and painful. It's not easy being cracked open the way you were, but it will get easier. For today we'll start with sitting in a chair for a while. Then we'll slowly get you walking around. Soon you'll be able to use the bathroom instead of this." She set the urinal down on the nightstand. "You already know how to adjust your bed. If you need to call a nurse, just push that button there." Lt. Debbie Peters pointed to a panel on the side of the bed.

Harm looked carefully at all the pictures on the narrow box. Confident he recognized which one was intended for calling the nurse, he nodded his head. "Thank you."

He had no idea how long he had been staring out the window at the blue sky when he heard the creak of the door opening.

"Morning," Mac smiled tentatively.

"Hi," Harm answered back, not really sure if he was happy to have her here or not.

"The nurse said you had a good night." Mac set the bag she'd brought down on the corner by the bed. "She also said they're going to be starting you on real food today."

Harm watched Mac keep herself busy, hovering around the bed. He hadn't really thought about this from her perspective. Here he was watching a perfect stranger, someone he knew nothing about, cared nothing about, and yet he felt put out, pressured by all that was expected from him regarding her. While she moved around doing what must be small wifely things, he realized she was most likely in the same position. Though her memories of the years of shared experiences were completely intact, the man she loved and married, for now, might as well be dead. She too was being forced to be with a total stranger.

"I don't want to overwhelm you," Mac hesitated looking at something in her hands, "but I don't know what to do about the children."

A nervous flock of geese began fluttering in Harm's stomach as Mac slowly approached him.

"I brought a few pictures." She handed him two 5 x 7 photo frames. "There's more in the bag if you'd like to see them."

Harm accepted the pictures, studying the pretty little girl in front of him. A small part of him hoped that seeing her might trigger some memory, but he was drawing another complete blank. Not even a flicker of emotion stirred in him. No paternal instincts, no sense of some connection. He felt hollow inside.

"Did you say her name is Patricia?" Harm didn't look up from the picture.

"After your mother, and Sarah after your grandmother. She's nine now." Mac leaned back against the foot of the bed.

Harm looked up at Mac, squinting slightly, then looked back at the photo. "She looks like you, doesn't she?"

"For the most part, but she has your green eyes and the Rabb smile." Mac had folded her hands in front of her and was now nervously twiddling her fingers.

Switching the photo of Trisha with the one underneath, Harm's eyes opened wide, "Wow. I wonder if this is what I looked like as a boy." He looked up at Mac slightly open-mouthed.

"That's what your mom says," she smiled. "He can wrap the girls in his class around his finger with just a smile. That kid has dress whites and gold wings written all over him," she teased.

Harm frowned, "Dress whites and gold wings?"

"It's an expression about fighter pilots," Mac skirted.

"You think he's going to be a fighter pilot?" Harm didn't understand what that had to do with the little boy's captivating smile.

"The entire expression is 'dress whites and gold wings will get you in bed anywhere.'" Mac hoped she wasn't blushing. Even though she was technically chatting with the one man in the world who knew her more intimately than anyone else, she was still talking to a perfect stranger.

Harm raised one eyebrow, his eyes twinkled slightly, and Mac felt her heart swell. Her Harm was in there somewhere.

"Did they?" he grinned mischievously.

"Did they what?" Mac was seriously flustered by the power of that smile.

"Get us into bed?" Harm's small grin flourished into a full blown flyboy smile until he saw the shock on Mac's face. Quickly backpedaling, "I...I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that. Please accept my apology?"

Mac pressed her lips tightly together. Apparently the fighter jock and the gentleman were still in there somewhere battling each other. "As a matter of fact. You asked me to marry you without sleeping with me."

"So, I really am an officer and a gentleman?" Harm wasn't sure why, but he felt really badly about having possibly offended her. He wasn't sure if it was just his nature, or perhaps deep down he really did care about this woman.

"Yeah." Mac's mind had wondered back to the day he proposed. She wasn't completely sure if offering to go halves on a baby would be considered very gentlemanly, but she loved him so much for it.

"You said you had more."

"Oh, yeah." Mac happily grabbed the bag and began handing Harm photos. "That's all of us at Christmas last year."

Harm studied the family photo. He certainly looked happy, but then again, seasonal portraits could be deceiving.

When he set the photo down, Mac handed him another. "That was you and Tommy two summers ago. It's one of my favorite photos."

From the looks of it, Harm had been playing baseball with his son. Someone snapped the photo just as the little boy's bat connected with an oversized plastic ball. Tommy's eyes were huge in surprise, and Harm was grinning from ear to ear. It really was a sweet photo. Harm couldn't resist smiling even though he had no recollection of the event.

"Is he a good ball player?" Harm glanced up.

"He's only six, but yeah, I think he's pretty good. How many four year olds do you know who can hit a pitched ball?"

What little smile was on his face, slid away at her words.

"I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean..." Mac didn't know what to say.

"I know. Have another?"

Mac showed Harm the other photos she had gathered from around the house. The photo of Trisha at her first piano recital that sat on the baby grand. Another photo from the mantel, of Tommy and Trisha posing in Sarah.

Photograph after photograph, Harm realized he was always smiling, happy. Even in the candid shots. He actually started aching for what he couldn't remember. This man he was had a good life. Suddenly, he was filled with fear. Could he become the man these people remembered, the man in these photos? Would he even want to?

**Chapter 15**

"I think I should get back to bed." His muscles were starting to really sting from holding himself up, and as much as he hated to admit being weak, he needed the rest. Hesitating a moment, he wondered if that was something old or new. Did Harmon Rabb Jr. not like being weak? "If you'll call the nurse, I'll need some help getting back into bed."

"I can help." Mac hopped off the edge of the bed and leaned forward to put her arm around him.

"You'd better call the nurse."

"I can do this," Mac insisted.

"You might get hurt," Harm excused.

"Harm, I'm a Marine." Exasperation was clear in her voice.

"You say that a lot, don't you?" She seemed unusually comfortable in her role as the persuader. This wasn't the first time she'd needed to convince anyone of her ability. He didn't have to remember to be sure of that much.

"I suppose I do. Now stop grumbling and lean on me." Mac leaned more closely into Harm so he could put his weight on her.

"I... I'd rather the nurse did this," Harm resisted.

"Harm, whether you like it or not, I'm your wife and you're going to have to learn to trust me. Now seems as good a time as any, so move it, sailor. That's an order."

Pushing off the arms of the chair as much as he could, Harm leaned on Mac and shuffled his way back to the bed. Careful not to tangle the IV, Mac released her hold on his side and turned, reaching around his front. "Do you need me to help you slide onto the bed or can you do this yourself?"

Whether he could or couldn't, he had no intention of letting this woman do anything else to get him into bed. "I can do it," he mumbled.

Mac watched as he grimaced and struggled, shifting himself back on the bed.

"And they call us jarheads." She shook her head. "Let me at least help with your legs." Not accepting no for an answer, Mac lifted Harm's legs up and swung them across the bed. "There. Isn't that better?" She brushed her hands off.

"What's a jarhead?"

"It's a nickname for a Marine, but I'd watch who you say it to. You could wind up on the wrong end of an angry fist."

"Ah, I see," Harm smiled slightly.

"I'm just going to sit here and read. You go ahead and take a nap. It probably won't be long before they start serving lunch."

Harm watched her put all the photographs away and retrieve a rather large paperback. He wondered if she read often or if this was just her way of keeping busy under the circumstances.

Mac pulled out her latest book. She'd been reading a lot since spending so much time at the hospital. She couldn't help but glance at Harm out of the corner of her eye. When she was sure he was soundly asleep, she set her book down and simply watched him.

Dress whites and gold wings. Thinking back, it was funny how often she'd told him they were overrated. Mac closed her eyes and it was all as clear as yesterday... Standing in front of the cars at the Colombian Embassy:

"You know what they say about dress whites and gold wings? Overrated." Mac had quickly turned and hopped into the waiting car.

"We'll, see," Harm had smirked cockily, climbing into the jeep.

She didn't realize he'd said that under his breath until he'd fessed up that night at his apartment.

**North of Union Station **

**May 1999**

No sooner had Harm said, "Let's get married," than the water from the pasta pot boiled over, raising the lid with a clank.

Practically jumping back, Harm ran around the island and turned off the stove. Without giving any consideration to actually putting pasta in the boiling water, Harm returned eagerly to Mac's side.

"It's not nice to keep a guy waiting. What do you say, Mac? Will you marry me?" Harm grabbed her hands in his again, anticipation eating away at his normally calm demeanor.

"Why?" She may have been pushing her luck, but she had to ask.

Harm brought her hands up to his lips and placed a delicate, light kiss on the back of her hand, then slid it down his face and neck until he brought it to rest over his beating heart.

"I love you, Sarah MacKenzie. I don't ever want to lose you. No matter what the future holds, I want to be a part of your life." Harm thought his heart had stopped, waiting for her response.

"I love you, too. Yes, let's get married." Mac fought the urge to ask about Jordan. Whatever had or hadn't happened between them, it was Mac he was asking to marry him and share his life and children, not Jordan.

Harm hesitated, just watching her. Had she really said yes? Could it be that his entire world had completely turned around in only a few hours? "I uh..." For the second time in only a short while, Harm didn't know what to say. He wanted this woman in his arms more than anything in the world, and yet he didn't dare ask for what was on his mind. Only a few hours ago they'd been nothing more than colleagues. Somewhere he'd have to find the strength to be patient, to ease into a more physical relationship. He just wasn't sure where to find it at the moment. If he kissed her again now, there was no force on earth that could stop him from taking this all the way.

"A girl says 'yes' and all you say is, 'uh'?" Mac teased. What she really wanted to do was rip off his clothes and drag him to the nearest flat surface.

"I love you, but if I want to start this relationship out right, I'd better do as I promised and feed you." Reluctantly, Harm pulled away from her and turned the water pot back on to boil. "It should only take a second since it was practically boiling over a minute ago." The water wasn't the only thing ready to boil over, Harm thought.

Mac chuckled softly, "Apparently my reputation precedes me."

"I wouldn't want to be accused of not feeding a hungry Marine." The water at a full boil again, Harm stirred the raw pasta into the pot.

Mac gathered her nerve and walked around the counter, stepping up closely into Harm's personal space. "Sometimes a Marine is hungry for more than pasta." Giving him her best come-hither gaze, Mac ran one finger along the edge of Harm's ear, tracing down along his jaw line, finally stopping at the seam of his lips. "Unless your appetite is really set on pasta?"

"I uh..." Oh lord, his appetite for pasta wasn't the only thing up at the moment.

"You said that already."

"Yeah, I guess I did."

Mac let her finger slowly drop down to his chin and run past his neck, stopping to doodle lightly at the vee of his shirt.

"Oh, Mac." Harm wrapped his arms around her, practically crushing her tightly against him. Breathlessly he whispered in her ear, "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Turning her face to nibble on his chin, she licked the edge of his earlobe before whispering back, "I was hoping it was something like what you do to me."

That was it. Slow and patient had just flown out the window. Harm's lips came crashing down on hers. His hands couldn't move fast enough. He couldn't pull her close enough. He wanted all of Sarah MacKenzie, forever.

**Chapter 16**

Harm opened his eyes to find Mac still sitting quietly at his bedside, her eyes closed and a sweet grin on her face. She really was a beautiful woman. He should feel lucky to have such a beautiful wife, but he didn't, he felt trapped. Scared and trapped like a cornered rat, yet the longer he watched her, oddly enough, the calmer he realized he felt. It made no sense. Having her around was both frightening and comforting. It simply made no sense.

Letting out a short sigh, Mac opened her eyes and picked up her book, startled to hear Harm speak.

"Must have been a nice dream."

Positive her face was blushing several shades of crimson, Mac looked down at the book in her hands and softly answered, "The best." Maybe some day she could tell him that first night wouldn't be the only time they had almost burned down his old apartment.

The next few hours passed with a continuous flurry of activity. Shortly after Harm returned from the CAT scan, he was served a rather bland lunch of broth and Jell-O. Though he never said a word, Mac could tell he wasn't very pleased with his culinary options. Before she could bring up what to do about the children again, Jen showed up with her husband, Bobby.

The situation was more than uncomfortable. Mac hadn't had time yet to fill Harm in on all their friends. She would have to make a mental note to ask them to please give him a few days to adjust before bombarding him with social calls.

As soon as the two people walked in the door, Mac glanced, slightly panicked, in Harm's direction, searching his face. In a small way she hoped maybe for some insane reason Jen would trigger memories Mac couldn't, but the expression on his face was clear – he had no idea who they were or if he should even know them.

Harm saw the white uniform and terror flushed through him. This was probably someone else he was supposed to know. How many people had he forgotten? How much of a life was wiped away? Frantically his eyes darted to Mac, silently pleading for help.

"Jen! Bobby!" Mac enunciated clearly, springing with feigned enthusiasm from her seat. "Shouldn't you two be at work?" Mac hugged each of them whispering into Jen's ear, "He's still pretty confused."

Smiling apprehensively, Jen stepped out of the embrace and closer to the bed. Directing her comments at Mac, "General Cresswell had a meeting with the SecNav. He'll be gone all afternoon, so he approved my leaving early today." Turning her attention back to Harm, "So, how ya feeling, Captain? Ready to revolt on the cafeteria yet?"

Harm stared silently at Jennifer. She was an attractive, obviously much younger woman, and from the force of the grip she held on the man next to her, they were undoubtedly a couple. He didn't realize how long he remained silent, analyzing the scene before him, or how Jen was slowly beginning to squirm until Mac answered for him.

"I strongly suspect if they continue bringing him meals along the lines of today's, it won't be long before he's begging us for contraband." Mac tried to lighten the growing tension with a hearty chuckle.

Recognizing his blatant lack of participation in the conversation, Harm smiled up at Jen, "You didn't happen to bring some french fries with you?" Unfortunately, he was completely unprepared for the look of sheer shock that spread across all three people's faces. What had he said? French fries were food? He hadn't just insulted anyone, had he?

"No, sir," Jen finally managed to spit out. "But I'll see what I can do next time."

The rest of their short visit didn't go much better. Despite varied attempts to lessen the pressure, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. No matter what anyone did or said, the blatant truth of the matter was that the man they knew and loved wasn't with them.

Harm kept his eyes on Mac as she followed Jen and Bobby out of the room. She'd tried to help him, to make it easier for him. Sending him clues, outright answering for him if necessary. She seemed flawless in her approach, as though she'd been covering for him for years. He couldn't help but wonder, why? What was it in their past that made her so good at protecting him, helping him?

Mac quietly explained to their guests to please pass the word around to give him a few more days before coming to visit. They were going to need time. Hopefully, not as much as she feared.

"Thank you," Harm offered as soon as Mac re-entered the room.

Mac looked at him quizzically. "For what?"

"For trying to help, trying not to make it obvious how little I remember."

"I've been watching your six for a lot of years, no reason to stop now," she smiled.

"My six?" Harm jetted his head slightly forward in another moment of obvious confusion. Would there be no end to things he didn't understand?

"It's pilot jargon for rear end. Anyone in the Navy who has ever served on a carrier is familiar with it. We've always had each other's backs. I'm not going to stop now." Stepping forward she dropped her hand on his, squeezing gently. It was the first time she'd actually touched him since he'd woken up yesterday. The feel of his skin under her hand sent an enormous wave of peace flushing through her.

Harm instinctively stiffened when he felt her hand gently fall on his. Almost immediately, the apprehension was washed away with an overwhelming sensation of comfort, safety. God, he wished he could remember!

Feeling extremely awkward, Harm turned his hand, gently closing his hand around hers for an instant, then pulling it sharply away.

Mac cleared her throat, and took a few steps back. He didn't want to be touched or comforted, at least not by her. Turning around, adjusting nothing in the chair, she batted back the threat of tears, something she feared she was going to get very good at.

"We need to decide what to do about the children." Back in control of her emotions, Mac sat down facing him.

"I would think it's pretty clear I'm in no position to be making any kind of decision regarding your children." Harm didn't know what to say. What did she want him to do?

"Our children," she corrected.

"Sorry, our children." He couldn't help but wonder if he was ever going to remember? If he could ever feel they were HIS children?

"Trisha is usually here every day to read to you. I won't be able to stall her past today without telling her the truth, and Tommy has been patiently waiting for his daddy to wake up. I don't know what will happen when we tell him his daddy isn't really here." Mac let out a heavy sigh. Tommy's reaction scared her most of all. His father was his whole world.

"I see." Harm looked down at his hands and back up at Mac. "I can't be someone I don't remember." He watched Mac batting her eyes, valiantly resisting the tears, hiding behind a forced smile.

"I know that," she managed to agree.

"But if you help me," he hesitated finding the right words. "I'll do my best." Harm prayed he wasn't making a mistake, but if these were his children, and there was little reason to believe they weren't, memory or not, it was his responsibility to at least try and do what was in their best interest. He just prayed he could pull it off.

"I'll call Mom and tell her to bring the kids with her when she comes to visit this afternoon." Apprehension clutched at Mac's insides. Why did this all have to be so hard? Why did any of it have to happen at all?

**Chapter 17**

"Let's see if I've got this right. Tommy is six and I sometimes call him Squirt. Trisha is nine and I tend to call her Princess, and whatever I do, don't call her Patty. It reminds her of Peppermint Patty on Snoopy. Tommy loves anything to do with sports. Give him a ball, any size or shape, and he'll figure out what to do with it. Trisha loves anything girly. Give her a bottle of nail polish and it's like hitting the lottery. Did I leave anything out?" Harm had counted off one by one on his fingers, never looking up at Mac.

"You got it," Mac smiled. "Now, remember we always call her Trisha, never Trish so as not to confuse her with your mom. And she's probably going to talk your ear off about the Indian Princess weekend you missed."

"Did you tell me about that?" Harm squinted one eye wondering why that didn't sound familiar. So far he'd been pleased with his ability to retain whatever information Mac had fed him, but this didn't ring any bells.

"I may have forgotten about that," Mac sighed. "Indian Princess is a father-daughter program at the YMCA."

"YMCA?" Harm interrupted.

"Yeah, Young Men's Christian Association. I'll explain that later. Anyhow, it's a father daughter program at the Y. It involves monthly meetings, and campouts twice a year. You did it through the Y the first year, and afterwards one of the dads with an older daughter encouraged the tribe to go renegade."

"Renegade? Sounds daring," Harm smiled.

Mac felt her heart stop. The glint in his eye, the twitch of his lip, the lilt of his voice - that was her Harm. He was still there.

"Well, I don't know about daring, but it is more comfortable. Camping now usually involves lodges with indoor plumbing and Jacuzzis," Mac chuckled.

"I see," Harm smirked.

"The program at the Y only lasts three years but the dads and the girls have kept it up. You do the same thing now with Tommy, only his group is called the Indian Guides."

"Not princes?"

"No, that doesn't really go over well with five year old little boys, and I might as well tell you..."

"Tell me what?" Apprehension quickly replaced the previously amused smile.

"For Tommy's tribe, you're the Chief."

"The Chief?" Apprehension had now converted to full-blown terror.

"Don't worry. You're almost due to rotate out," Mac shrugged.

"Hmm," he grunted.

Mac wondered quietly if seeing his children was going to make a difference or be like everything else so far? She'd hoped she'd given him enough information to avoid an awkward encounter like the one earlier with Jennifer and her husband. What Mac wasn't so sure of was if Harm could pull this off without the kids picking up on just how bad the injury was. They both agreed they would tell the kids that Daddy had forgotten an awful lot of stuff that happened in the past, but they wouldn't tell the kids he'd forgotten them.

The idea had actually been Harm's suggestion. "I don't have to remember what it's like being a father or a kid to know that it must be devastating to a small child for their parent to forget who they are." Hence, the one-hour crash course on the Rabb children.

"Anybody home?" Trish knocked lightly, popping her head in the door.

Harm and Mac both nodded yes. Trish immediately noticed the stern look on Harm's face. None of the joy or anticipation that would have normally been there at the idea of seeing his children was present. If anything, he reminded her of what he'd been like just before taking final exams as a teenager.

"Where are the kids?" Mac questioned.

"They're waiting for you in the family room. I had to tell them he was awake for Tommy to come, but I didn't tell them anything else." Turning to face Mac, "I thought you might want to handle that yourself.

Mac nodded and hurried past Trish, out the door.

"How are you doing today?" Trish asked, slowly walking closer to the bed.

"Better. Still very confused."

"I bet." Trish brushed her hand lightly along Harm's arm. "When you were a little boy, you would sit at your desk for hours studying maps of South East Asia. I used to think it would have been better if you had just forgotten your father than to waste your childhood searching for him. Now I'm not so sure anymore."

Harm didn't know what to say. He felt really sorry for this woman, for everyone in his life, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Unable to resist any longer, Trish ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it back lightly, then she let her fingers gently caress his face before leaning over and kissing his cheek. "I don't care how big you are, you'll always be my baby." Sniffling back the urge to cry, Trish stepped away from the bed.

"I'm sorry," Harm offered.

"Not your fault," Trish smiled just as the door burst open and a missile shot into the room.

Harm's eyes flew open wide as the small projectile crashed against him. He had no idea how such a little thing could have entered the room and climbed up on the bed with such speed and force.

"DADDY!" the little bundle shouted loudly. "Wanta play catch?"

Harm was momentarily at a loss. He hadn't expected such a powerful entrance and was a little taken aback by this miniature person's stranglehold on his neck. Slowly reminding himself that this was his son and some reciprocation would be normal, Harm tentatively let his good arm wrap around the little boy, gently patting his back.

"'Fraid I can't, Squirt." Harm felt a lump in his throat. This was his son, his flesh and blood, and he had no memories.

"Let Trisha say hello." Mac tugged on Tommy's arm, pulling him gently away from Harm, hoping Harm could recognize the silent apology in her eyes.

"Hi, Princess," Harm smiled at the pretty little girl still standing by the front door. If Harm didn't know better, he'd have sworn she was just as nervous about this as he was.

Trisha stared at Harm, unable to move. Mac had explained that Daddy was confused and had forgotten a lot of things, but something wasn't right. She'd seen the momentary horror flash across his face when Tommy lunged at him.

Harm wasn't sure what was wrong, but he could sense there was a problem. This child just could very well be more scared of him at the moment than he was of her, but why?

Mac was holding Tommy in her arms, softly telling him to remember that Daddy was still sick and couldn't do too much right away when she suddenly realized the growing tension in the room. Looking over at her daughter, she encouraged, "Sweetie, go on."

Taking his cue from Mac, Harm extended his arm and smiled at her, "Come on Princess."

Whether her instincts were right or wrong, her dad's broad smile filled her with instant joy. Rushing to his side, she too threw her arms around him. "Oh Daddy, are you really okay?"

Was that ever a loaded question. Wrapping his arm around her with less hesitation than he had with Tommy, Harm instinctively kissed her temple and soothed, "I will be." Now if he only believed that.

**Chapter 18**

Thankfully, Mac and Trish knew better than to overdo the kids' visit. They knew even a few minutes would undoubtedly be difficult for Harm.

Watching Trish usher the kids out the door, Mac took a deep breath before turning back to Harm. "You okay? You did really well."

"They seem like great kids," he answered wistfully. He couldn't imagine a man wanting anything more from his children. It just pained him to think he remembered nothing about them.

"I think you pulled it off. I don't think they realized you don't remember them, at least not for now. Thank you."

"I...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That I don't remember." Harm looked at Mac, he wasn't really sure why, but he felt as though he had let her down, as though he had failed. Much to his own surprise, even though he didn't remember any of them, this hurt him more than any physical injury.

Mac was about to explain it wasn't his fault when Dr. Pena and Commander Brubeck quietly entered the room.

"We hear you had a lot of visitors today."

Harm merely nodded, uncertain if any of the thoughts popping into his mind would be considered appropriate in mixed company. He wanted more than anything for everyone to just go away and leave him alone. Every person who walked into the room had some expectation that he knew he wouldn't be able to meet, and he was tired of feeling like he was letting everyone down.

"He did well. He's still a quick study," Mac commented. "We decided not to tell the children he doesn't remember them."

"I'm not surprised," Commander Brubeck interjected. "I mean, that the Captain here is a quick study. Amnesiacs commonly retain or easily relearn old skills. As a lawyer, the Captain would need to have excellent retentive skills."

"Does this mean he's going to be remembering more soon?" Mac ventured.

Dr. Pena and Commander Brubeck looked at each other.

"The longer he goes without remembering, the less likely it is his memory will return." Harm's neurologist glanced between Harm and Mac. "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear, but you've been awake almost thirty-six hours. I would have liked to have seen some basic recognition by now."

"You said that pure amnesia was unlikely," Mac reminded him.

"That's true. Pure retrograde amnesia isn't very common, but not impossible. The brain is very complex. We've viewed the MRI. There are a couple of dark spots that might explain the loss of memory, but there's no way of knowing if they're the result of the car accident or from a previous blow."

"It could be that as you go back to your normal routine you may still have some recall," Dr. Pena added.

"Recall?" It was Harm who spoke this time.

"Coming up with pieces of information from your memory: the name of someone you've recognized, where you were when Kennedy was killed. Much the way you remembered where you were born and the year you graduated from the Academy," Brubeck explained.

"But not my memory?" Harm could feel his palms beginning to sweat. The thought of going through his entire life in a state of constant confusion and loss was beyond horrifying.

"I'm not saying that. I just want you to be realistically prepared for what's ahead of you." Commander Brubeck wished he could give them a more definitive answer. Unlike a broken bone, there was no timeframe for healing a battered brain.

"All things considered, you're progressing nicely. You seem to be doing well off the catheter. From my stand point, you could be ready to go home in a couple of days." Dr. Pena couldn't help but notice the panicked look in Harm's eyes. "It will be up to your orthopedic surgeon to determine if he wants you to undergo physical therapy here at the hospital or as an outpatient. An occupational therapist will be by some time tomorrow to see if you need any other assistance before we can discharge you."

Mac stared blankly at the two physicians. She'd heard every word they had said, but somehow felt as though she'd been listening in a wind tunnel. None of this made any sense. She'd just been told she might be able to bring her husband home in a few days and instead of rejoicing, there was a sinking sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.

Harm felt the same dread. Now what? How much could he pretend? How long could he keep this up?

"You've had a busy day. It's time you got some rest." With a short nod, the two doctors left their patient to digest what little information they'd shared.

Harm ran his hands over his face. He was suddenly feeling very tired. The doctors were right; he needed to rest.

Mac hated not being able to touch and comfort him. Moments like this, when his gestures were so like the man she'd lived with for the last eleven years, it was almost possible for her to forget he was technically a stranger now.

"Harm..." she started.

"Not now. Whatever it is, not now." Harm raised his hand, palm out asking for silence. "I'd like to be left alone please."

"Yeah, sure," Mac flustered. The truth was, she was desperately in need of a little fresh air herself. Making a conscious choice, she grabbed her things and walked casually over to Harm's bedside. "You get some rest. Good night." Before he could react, she'd leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then turned and walked away. If he was going to be coming home soon, it was up to her to make things as normal as possible, no matter what it took.

Harm watched the door slowly closing. Perhaps if he closed his eyes and got some sleep, when he woke up he'd discover all of this was nothing more than a bad dream.

**Rabb home**

**2200 hours**

Mac had watched the kids bustle about getting ready for bed. She could feel their happiness permeating every nook of the large home. She almost hadn't noticed the dreary feel their life had taken on. Apparently Harm had pulled it off. The kids didn't appear to realize he had no recollection of them. They smiled, and laughed, and teased each other as though all was right with the world.

"Thought you might like a cup." Trish handed Mac a steaming cup of tea.

"Oh, thanks." Accepting the proffered mug, Mac shifted on the sofa, making room for her mother-in-law.

"Now what?" Trish asked softly. Mac had tried to fill Trish in as much as possible on the doctor's report without the kids noticing.

"I don't know. For the first time in my life I have absolutely no idea what to expect. I'm worried what will happen if the kids find out he doesn't really remember them."

"They won't. Somewhere down deep there has to be a part of him that feels those are his children. There just has to be." Trish wasn't too sure whom she was trying to convince, but she couldn't let go of that hope, she just couldn't.

"I hope you're right." Mac stood up. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to head off to bed."

"Of course not. I'm going to watch TV down here a little longer then call it a night myself."

Leaning over to kiss Trish on the cheek, Mac slowly made her way back to her room. Trish had quickly become the mother Mac never had. From the day of the wedding Trish had insisted Mac call her Mom, and from that moment on Trish treated Mac like her own flesh and blood. Mac had no idea how she would have survived the last few weeks if not for Trish's support.

Walking straight to the bathroom, Mac set her cup down on the counter and reached around to grab her nightgown from the back of the door. Her fingers froze when they brushed against the soft texture of Harm's robe hanging by hers. Gingerly she rubbed her hands up and down the velvety fabric before pulling it from the hook and slipping it on.

Forgetting all about changing her clothes or the warm tea, Mac wrapped herself in the warmth of her husband's scent. She missed him so much. Rubbing her arms, she walked over to the bed and dropped heavily on the colorful spread. With a sweeping gesture, she pulled Harm's pillow from the opposite side of the bed and curled it into her arms. "Please come back to me," she whispered. "Please?"

**Chapter 19 **

The next day had gone much better than Mac had expected. When Trisha and Tommy arrived, there was no hesitation in Harm's greeting. The two kids climbed up on the bed, Tommy tucked under his good arm and Trisha on the opposite side facing Harm.

"I brought some more books in case you still want me to read to you." Her mom had told her that with Dad awake it was no longer necessary, but Trisha had hoped he'd still want her to continue.

"What did you bring?" Harm raised his chin, trying to see over the edge of the book.

"Prince and the Pauper."

He had a feeling that was supposed to mean something to him. "What do you say, squirt?" Harm squeezed his son lightly.

"It's okay, but it doesn't have pictures."

Mac bit her lips, holding back a chuckle.

"Maybe next time your mom can bring a picture book too and Trisha can read both books to us."

Harm didn't see Trisha roll her eyes. She wasn't really interested in reading to Tommy, but would if that's what her dad wanted.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Mac interjected from across the room in an appropriately maternal tone, then settled back to watch her family interact. She could almost kid herself into pretending that all was as it should be. Harm had found a way to put on a charming show for the kids, but he was still distant and unnerved around her.

**Bethesda**

**Three days later  
**

"I'd say you're all set to go home, Captain." The occupational therapist took a step back. There had been little need for her. Harm had remembered most of his basic skills without any prodding. It had taken him a couple of tries to recall how to tie his shoes, a difficult task with his shoulder injury, but that had been the only thing that slowed him down. He'd even managed to tie a perfect knot in his tie without any assistance from her.

"I told you this wasn't necessary." Harm had just about grown sick of all the little tests he'd had to pass the last couple of days, determining what skills he had and had not forgotten. Apparently the only damn thing he couldn't remember was people and events. He'd give anything at this time to remember his children and have forgotten how to tie a tie.

"You know how the military is about SOP. It won't be long before you have full mobility in that shoulder and no one will ever know you'd been injured."

Harm raised one side of his mouth in a half-hearted grin. If he didn't laugh with this woman he would have screamed. No one would ever know. The problem is he would never know what he'd forgotten either.

Mac had just come from the airport. Trish's gallery manager had suffered a minor heart attack and she was needed back in California ASAP. Trish had struggled with the decision, but there was no one else who could take over, and Harm was awake now and on the road to recovery. Mac assured her everything would be fine, and with a little extra prodding and frequent reassurance, she'd waved goodbye as Trish walked off in search of her gate.

Coming down the hospital hallway, Mac had been a little startled to hear laughter coming from Harm's room. Who could that be? Quietly, stepping into the room, she froze, watching Harm and the OT interacting. There was a subtle banter that reminded her of how she and Harm had related when they first met.

For the first time since he'd proposed, Mac felt the sting of jealousy. Not that plenty of women hadn't flirted with her husband. She was used to that. He was gorgeous and charming, and she'd have to be a fool to think all women would respect the wedding ring. But this was different. This wasn't 'her' Harm anymore. Even though Mac knew the OT was only being friendly, she suddenly realized that this Harm might not react to serious flirting with the fierce loyalty her Harm always had. The fear and doubts that had been lingering heavily in the back of her mind squeezed at her heart. Swallowing hard, she stepped fully into the room wearing a smile she didn't feel.

"So, what's the verdict?"

Harm looked up at his wife. "Apparently I can still tie my shoes."

Mac was pleased to see Harm's lighthearted approach to the situation was extended to her as well.

"Mm, you were always good at that," Mac teased back.

"Please tell me I had other fortes?" Harm laughed, shaking his head.

"A few," Mac raised one brow suggestively. This was more fun than she'd expected when she'd first entered the room. For just a few minutes she was talking with her Harm.

"I don't think you two need me anymore." Amused with the dialogue, the therapist turned to face Mac. "If he needs any assistance getting back into his gown, I'm sure you can help him." She politely waved goodbye and moved on to her next patient, unaware of how her comment had fallen like a wet blanket on the other two people in the room.

Harm had not allowed Mac to help him with anything since that first day she'd helped him back into bed. He'd insisted on calling for the nurse for any assistance. At first Mac tried to insist. She was his wife, after all. She could help him to the bathroom. She wouldn't have to stay, even the nurse merely stood waiting for him outside the bathroom door, but after a couple of near heated rants she'd given up trying.

**Bethesda **

**Next day  
**

**1130 hours**

"Sorry I'm a little late. Got called in by General O'Neil this morning. Something that couldn't be handled by phone."

Harm nearly grimaced when he saw Mac in uniform. He'd been told she was a Marine but seeing her standing in front of him left him with that annoying feeling of having a memory just outside his reach.

"No hurry. The doctor just signed the papers a little while ago."

"Did he have anything to say?"

"You mean, besides good luck? No." Harm had wished the orthopedist had preferred he do therapy in-house. The doctors seemed to be in a much bigger hurry to get him home to his normal surroundings than he was. Playing dad for a little while every afternoon had been getting easier, but he wasn't ready for the role full time, not yet. And then there was his wife.

What little time they'd had alone without doctors, nurses, therapists, visitors or the children, was spent with Mac trying to bring Harm up to date on who all their friends were. There had been no opportunity to discuss anything personal, and certainly not his impending discharge. Each day was spent rehashing whatever history there was between Harm and that day's visitor. He'd learned of how he'd once helped Jennifer Coates and eventually requested her for his yeoman in England, and how later when her husband was sent stateside to work on a special taskforce, she'd requested a transfer back to DC. Mac filled him in on Bud's history from awkward ensign to Harm's XO in England. For a split second it had almost looked as though Harm was going to recognize Sturgis, but then he didn't. He did however, seem to enjoy Sturgis' visit most of all. Sturgis retold several stories from their early days at Annapolis, some of which seemed to fall on deaf ears, while others had Harm laughing out loud. Now Harm had to face the reality and responsibilities of being a husband to a woman he couldn't remember.

The smiling nurse at the door interrupted the awkward tension that had filled the room.

"Time for you to leave us, sir." The plump redhead strolled past Mac, maneuvering a wheel chair closer to the bed.

"I don't need that."

"SOP," she smiled sweetly. Obviously this was not the first time she'd had this discussion with a departing patient. No matter how sweet she sounded, it was quite clear this particular subject was not up for debate.

After Harm had settled into the chair and the nurse had wheeled him into the corridor, Mac asked, "Is there any reason I can't take over from here?"

"No, ma'am." Stepping aside, the redhead turned over the reins. "God speed."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Harm and Mac replied.

"You realize I feel absolutely ridiculous having you push me out of the building," Harm mumbled.

"You heard what she said, it's SOP."

"What exactly is SOP? Everyone keeps saying that. As a matter of fact, I'm getting tired of everyone talking in code." Harm hadn't meant to snap at Mac but the truth was the closer he got to the front door, the more fitful the butterflies in his stomach became.

"Standard Operating Procedure." Mac decided to let the rest of the comment about talking in code slide.

As they exited the hospital, a handsome young Marine corporal passed them on his way into the building. This was the first time Mac had been on the grounds in uniform and the first time she'd needed to return a salute.

Harm had been watching the people pass by in the different hallways. The knot in his stomach was twisting tighter and tighter as they reached the front door when he caught a young Marine corporal saluting from the corner of his eye. The next thing Harm knew his hand was at his brow and his ride had suddenly stopped.

**Chapter 20**

Harm and Mac had ridden home in nearly total silence. Each was contemplating the possible significance of Harm's returning a salute. As much as Harm had wanted to believe that it was a meaningful breakthrough, by the time they'd pulled into the driveway he was convinced it had no more importance than the fact that he could still tie his shoes. Most likely it was something that had been deeply ingrained in his memory at one time.

"We're here." Mac turned off the car engine.

"Nice." Harm scanned the large older home.

"Still needs a lot of work." Mac found herself climbing slowly out of the car. This was ridiculous. She and Harm had pulled up in front of this house hundreds of times. Pausing at the base of the front steps, she waited for Harm to catch up.

"New steps?" Harm kicked the top step with his foot.

"Porch had a little wood rot. It was the first thing you fixed."

"Me? I thought I was a lawyer and a pilot. Don't tell me I'm a carpenter, too?" Harm stepped onto the porch, carefully eyeing the new wood.

"Well, you have a multitude of skills." Mac gave the heavy front door a shove.

"So it seems." Harm followed Mac into the house, his steps careful, tentative. It was almost as though he was expecting something to blow up in his face. When a large german shepherd came bounding towards him, he almost thought it had. Greeting the dog warily, Mac finally called her off.

"Okay, Lady, that's enough. Go play!" Harm watched as the dog scurried off towards the back of the house.

"I forgot to tell you about Lady, sorry. Would you like me to show you around, or do you think you should rest first?"

Harm glanced down the hall and up the stairs. "Maybe just the first floor." He had come a long way since he'd woken up, but his muscles were still sore from his emergency surgery and he had a long road ahead of him, rebuilding his endurance levels.

"This is the dining room. We haven't used it very often yet." Mac watched as Harm casually glanced around the room then led the way further down the hall. "This door is to the basement, but we'll go down there another time. Unless you're in the mood to do laundry?"

Harm smiled and shook his head, following Mac to the next door.

"This is the office."

One entire wall was covered with books, mostly law books. The two desks faced each other with a birds' eye view of the front yard through the large windows. On each desk were several photos. A few Harm recognized as ones Mac had taken to the hospital.

"Which one's mine?"

"That one." Mac pointed to the slightly larger mahogany desk. "When you were single, you had this cracker box sized desk in your little apartment. By the time we moved to England you decided it was time for a real desk. That's the one you picked out."

Harm ran his fingers over the hard wood, stopping at a gilded 8 x 10 photograph. Picking the picture up, he studied it carefully. "You were a beautiful bride."

"Thank you." Mac shifted uncomfortably. When Harm finally put the photo back on the desk, she walked across the hall. "This is the guest room."

Harm noticed this room had a markedly more feminine feel to it. The dining room and office were in deep colors, yet this room was in pale shades of yellows and greens. As if Mac were reading his mind, she explained, "Your mom decorated this room while she was waiting for you to wake up. It gave her something else to focus on. She strokes a pretty mean paintbrush."

The next stop was the kitchen. "It's a little dated, but we were waiting to see what happens when Cresswell retires before beginning the updates."

"What does a Cresswell have to do with the kitchen?"

"General Cresswell is the JAG."

"The job I'm supposed to be a shoe-in for?"

"That's right."

Harm thought about it a minute. "And if I'm the new JAG, I won't have time to remodel a kitchen?"

"Exactly."

"But if I stay on the CNO's staff I would have time?"

"Well, not really," Mac chuckled quietly.

"Then I don't get it."

"Well, neither did I, but I've learned sometimes it doesn't pay to try." Mac turned and walked into the den. "Why don't you take a seat and I'll fix you some lunch."

Harm looked carefully around the room. He could feel the love literally surrounding him. There were photographs on the mantle, on the end tables, and dispersed throughout the built-in bookshelves. On the coffee table there were several pieces of 'modern' pottery, undoubtedly the careful creations of their children. Ribbons and trophies were scattered among the other family memorabilia.

"Is there anything special you'd like to eat?" Mac had waited till he'd had a few minutes to look around before interrupting.

"I... I don't know." He tried to think if he had some favorite food he'd enjoy, but nothing came to mind.

"How about keeping it simple, a grilled ham and cheese with a bowl of soup?"

"The sandwich sounds fine, but if I never see another bowl of soup again..."

"Clam chowder?" Mac interrupted with a smile.

Harm could tell by the tone of her voice that must have been something he liked. At the moment, though, he had no idea what clam chowder would be like. "Okay, sounds good," he smiled. When she'd turned and walked away, Harm picked up a nearby trophy and took a seat on the overstuffed sofa.

Ladybugs

FCSA

Champions

2009

Harm was still staring at the little statue when Mac came into the room carrying a tray of food.

"What's FCSA?"

"Falls Church Soccer Association." Mac set the tray on the table in front of him. "Thought you might be more comfortable in here."

"Thanks. This looks good." Harm picked up the spoon and took a slow slurp of the thick white liquid. "Mm, you're right. This is very good."

Mac watched as Harm swallowed a few more spoonfuls before taking a bite of his sandwich. "You didn't remember, did you?"

Harm's eyes dropped as he shook his head. He hated the look of disappointment in her eyes every time they discovered something new he couldn't recall. Finding the nerve to glance up at her, he waved his spoon. "Your soup's going to get cold."

Mac nodded and picked up her spoon.

"Tell me more about the house."

"Well. You'd originally gotten orders for Centcom in Florida, so I flew ahead to Tampa and had a house all picked out when we got word that you were being sent to the CNO's office instead."

"Does that happen often?"

"Last minute changes? Not usually. The Navy is noted for moving slowly, not suddenly, but there was some major snafu in operations planning. Lots of heads hit the chopping block and billets needed to be filled fast. Your history of multiple designators moved you to the top of the list."

"What about you?"

"I resigned my commission when you got transferred to England in 2005. Shortly after we arrived in Virginia, I got recalled, assigned to the Pentagon."

"Recalled?"

"The military has five years in which they can recall an officer to active service if they need you. The same garbage that created a need for a fighter pilot lawyer at the CNO's created a need for a multi-lingual lawyer fluent in Farsi on the Joint Staff at the Pentagon."

"I see. So how did we wind up with this house?"

Mac smiled at the memory. "You let Pickles poop in the yard."

"Pickles?"

"The orders to move came so quickly, we sent our stuff to storage and moved in with Bud and Harriet. They live right around the corner. One night you volunteered to walk their golden retriever and the owner caught her pooping in the yard. Over there." Mac pointed out the window at some distant spot.

"So I bought the house as an apology?" Harm frowned curiously.

"No, but it turns out the owner was a retired air force pilot. Every time you'd walk by with Pickles, the two of you would spend more time talking than the poor dog spent walking."

Harm smiled as he listened, feeling belatedly sorry for the dog.

"Anyhow, after about a week, you started discussing the frustration of not being able to find anything suitable and having to continue imposing on the Roberts, and Jack offered you this house. He said he was getting too old to keep up with it and his wife had been nagging him to retire to Florida, so you struck a deal on the front porch with a handshake and three weeks later we'd moved into our new home."

"So I picked this house?" Harm looked around the room again.

"Yeah, you did. We all loved it, even if there was a huge hole on the front porch."


	3. Chapters 21 thru 30

**Who Am I.**

**Chapter 21**

After clearing up the lunch dishes, Mac closed her eyes praying for wisdom. How do two total strangers interact as husband and wife? Forcing her feet to move one slow step at a time, she returned to the den and Harm. "It'll be a few hours before the kids get home. Would you like to take a nap?"

"I didn't know Trisha played soccer." Harm had picked up the trophy again and was staring at it.

"I guess I forgot to mention it." Mac's heart broke just a little at the pained look in his eyes.

"I want to know more. Are there photo albums, movies, something?"

"Yeah," Mac nodded her head, a small smile taking over her face. "Yeah."

Harm's eyes followed Mac as she rushed across the room and pulled out several large books from the cabinet. Dropping the pile of precariously balanced albums on the floor, she sat down right next to him and enthusiastically opened the first one and began rambling.

Mac hadn't dared to stay very near to Harm in the hospital. She'd sensed having her close made him uncomfortable, almost frightened, but now she hadn't given it a single thought. She'd sat so close to Harm, happily explaining every photograph and its history, she hadn't realized that he was staring intently at her and ignoring the photographs.

He'd never noticed how delicious Mac smelled. Somehow the antiseptic smell of hospital had managed to cover over everything, but now he could easily tell even her hair smelled wonderful. Her sweet scent was quickly filling his senses. His heart was beating faster and faster as the essence of this woman began to permeate every corner of his being. What was happening? Was he remembering, or was this just a hormonal reaction to a beautiful woman, because he had to admit, she was beautiful. More and more every day, as the shock of his situation wore off, the reality of just how beautiful she was had been growing clearer and clearer.

"This was his second birthday. No one realized he wasn't playing with the rest of the children. When we finally found him in the dining room his hands and face were covered with icing and all he had to say was, 'cake'. Everyone laughed so hard we were crying."

Mac suddenly realized that Harm hadn't said a word through all the photos. Tilting her head in his direction, she was confused by the way he was watching her. "Are you okay? Is this too much at once? Should I take a break?"

"Hm?" Harm looked down at the album and chuckled quietly at the photo of the little boy covered in cake. "Tommy?" he asked, oblivious to her recent explanation.

"Yeah. Should we stop?"

"No." Harm focused on the album. " Please, I want to see more."

"Well, this was his third birthday. Admiral Boone gave him a basketball. He was so excited, he was shaking. You can't tell from the picture, but I think we have it on video somewhere. I'll have to get those together later." Mac flipped the page delighted with the interest Harm was showing, the curious way he'd been looking at her earlier already forgotten.

They talked and laughed over photos of the children for the next two hours. Harm seemed especially amused by Trisha's favorite twirl dress. It was green velvet with an embroidered white snowflake on front, and every time she spun around the skirt flew up around her in flowing waves. She'd spent most of that winter spinning around telling everyone to watch her twirl.

"She was precious, wasn't she?" Harm asked, his voice obviously pained by the lack of memory.

"Yeah, she really was, is." Mac continued staring at the row of twirl photos.

"I was close to them, wasn't I?" Harm leaned back on the sofa, mindlessly picking up another album.

"I thought so. You were a good dad. You put the same driven determination into being with your children that you'd placed on your search for your father."

Harm set the album he'd just opened aside and picked up another. "I don't see any photos of us. Do you have albums of us before the kids were born?"

"Oh, sure." Mac's heart fluttered at his request. Pulling out a thin album, she retook her previous position beside Harm and opened the book. "This was the first year we worked together." Mac pointed to a newspaper clipping of the two of them after the terrorists had taken over Mercy Hospital.

"Wow. Not bad for an injured lawyer." Harm nodded his head in self-approval.

"Not bad for an injured lawyer WITH a Marine partner," Mac corrected, moving on to another photo. "This was a great night." Mac had forgotten how many photos had been taken the evening the Admiral had stopped over unexpectedly, when they were all worried about Josh Pendry and the murder he'd witnessed.

"Harriet and Bud look so young. Who are these people?" Harm pointed to Annie and Josh.

"Josh and Annie Pendry. She was the widow of one of your best friends from flight school."

"I don't remember you mentioning them. Have we lost touch?"

"You haven't seen them since you and she broke up and she forbade you to see Josh again."

"I dated her?" Harm was clearly surprised.

"For a little while. It didn't work out."

"I dated a best friend's wife?" Harm seemed stunned.

"Widow, and Luke had been dead for two years." Mac marveled at the expression in Harm's eyes. She could still read them. The honorable man she loved was hiding in there somewhere, appalled that he would make a move on a friend's wife. "It's not how it sounds. You were a good friend to them after Luke died."

"Apparently." Harm looked at the date under the photograph, January 1998.

"This was a great case. We got to chase three retired SEALs to Florida. The Admiral was so pleased with us, he let us stay the weekend when the case was solved."

Harm couldn't take his eyes off of Mac in a bikini. Wow. "Let me see if I understand this. I worked with a woman who looked like this in a bikini, but I was dating an old friend's widow instead?"

Mac chuckled loudly. "I guess that's one way to look at it."

"When did we start dating?" Harm flipped forward a few pages, looking for some insight into their relationship.

"We sort of skipped the dating part." Mac blushed slightly. She wasn't sure she wanted to explain this to him now. "You know, the kids will be home in a little while and I think it might be a good idea to get some rest. Do you want to lie down here, or go up to bed?"

"I've spent enough time in bed. This will be great." Harm hadn't realized how tired he'd gotten. Mac was right; he was going to need to rest before the children got home.

He could hear Mac shuffling around, putting away the albums, and tidying up. She'd gently placed a blanket over him before leaving the room. It didn't make any sense. From what he could sense from her reactions and responses, they appeared to have been a very close couple, yet their premarital history seemed near non-existent. Something wasn't right, but he was too tired to figure it out now.

**Chapter 22**

Harm didn't have to be a genius to figure out the sound of pounding hooves quickly approaching was undoubtedly two small children running up the wooden porch steps. When the front door flung open with a loud thud, his speculation was quickly confirmed.

"DAD!" Tommy dropped everything he was carrying on the floor and ran into the den where Harm was still resting.

"Tommy! I swear, do you have to leave everything in the middle of the floor!" Trisha sounded incredibly like a mother hen.

Mac came running up the stairs when she heard the troops coming home. "Remember, your father's not well," she called from the basement door, picking up Tommy's things as she made her way to the den.

"Take it easy sport, your mom is right," Harm winced as the young boy wrapped his arms around his dad squeezing tightly. Lady pounced nearby, having taken all the activity as her cue to greet Harm again.

"Okay, that's enough. Tommy, you take all of this up to your room, and take Lady with you." Mac held out the backpack, cleats, and miscellaneous papers she'd collected from the hall.

"You okay?" Trisha asked, leaning over and gently kissing her dad hello.

"Couldn't be better." Harm still had absolutely no recollection of these two children, but nonetheless, after the two-hour photo session, he felt he knew them a little better today than he had yesterday.

"Do you have any homework?" Mac asked, still standing in the doorway.

"A little. Can I do it in here?"

Mac nodded her head yes. She and Harm usually preferred their children do homework in the quiet of their rooms, hoping it would help encourage good study habits later on when class work became more challenging, but she couldn't see any reason to insist on that today.

"Are they always that energetic?" Harm had waited till both kids were upstairs to ask.

"Pretty much, yeah." Mac smiled broadly.

No sooner had Trisha returned with her homework than Tommy was bouncing into the room. "You ready, Dad?"

"Ready for what?"

"Practice."

Harm turned blankly towards Mac.

"No, honey," Mac came over from the shelves where she'd been hunting for home videos. "Daddy won't be ready to coach soccer for a long time yet."

Coach soccer? Mac had neglected to give Harm that little tidbit of information in all of her rundowns. Taking a few moments, he scanned his memory banks. As usual, he drew a complete blank. He had absolutely no idea how to play, never mind coach, soccer.

"It's still not time to leave. Why don't you go kick the ball around in the backyard for a little while until we need to go?" Mac suggested.

Huffing quietly, Tommy grabbed the soccer ball and ran out the back door.

"Mac, I don't know how to coach soccer."

"That's okay," she smiled. "You never did."

"What?" he frowned.

"Everyone decided since we used to live in England, you'd be the best qualified dad, so they voted you as coach."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope." The grin on Mac's face grew a little broader. He'd had this exact expression on his face the day the dads informed him he'd been chosen to replace Coach Hammons, who'd been transferred to Buffalo.

"You're serious?" Harm wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh with Mac or wipe the silly grin off her face.

"Yup." Her bright smile was growing into an amused grin.

"You're not going to let me off the hook are you?" A small smile was beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"'Fraid not." Mac was almost giggling.

"Okay, 'mom', tell me, how do I coach a game I know nothing about?" Her humor was infectious, Harm was chuckling now too, and he knew better.

Trying not to laugh out loud, Mac turned around and reached onto the bookcase, retrieving a thin book. "Here you go."

"What Every Dad Needs to Know About Coaching Soccer," Harm read aloud. "Gee, thanks."

"Thought you'd appreciate it. Who knows, maybe the season will be over before your doctor releases you." Momentarily biting her lower lip, she chuckled again. "Then you won't need to be ready till next season!"

Quickly, Mac turned around. "Gotta go!" Laughing, she rushed out the back door calling for Tommy.

Harm sat laughing quietly, still holding the book in his hand. Glancing across the coffee table at Trisha, he looked back at the cover, then over to where Mac had just escaped. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

**Later that night**

**Tommy's room**

Harm sat on the edge of the bed reading Huckabey Plays Hockey. Half way through the colorful book, Harm smiled at the adorable sleeping little boy. He was amazed the child had managed to stay awake as long as he had. The kid was one massive ball of energy.

"Trisha's waiting for you to kiss her goodnight." Mac stood in the doorway watching her two favorite men.

Patting Tommy gently on the back, Harm slowly stood up. He'd be happy when he could move about without any soreness or discomfort. Following Mac down the hall, he found Trisha patiently waiting her turn.

"Good night, Princess." Harm sat by the bedside. Leaning over was still not an option.

"Sweety, you're going to have to sit up to kiss Daddy," Mac prompted.

"Oh!" Trisha sprang up immediately, then gingerly hugged her dad, kissed his cheek, and snuggled back under the covers.

"Sleep well." Harm patted his daughter the same way he had his son and followed Mac across the hall, stopping at the threshold.

Mac had strolled into the room, not giving Harm any thought. She'd paused by the dresser to remove her jewelry, as she did every night before retiring, when she realized Harm was still standing almost nervously at the door.

"Is something wrong?" she frowned, not sure if she should go to him. They'd had a very calm first day, but she had to remind herself that the often confused, frustrated, and sometimes angry man before her was unpredictable.

"I... I was wondering if maybe it wouldn't make more sense if I... uh, slept downstairs." Harm's eyes darted briefly over to the bed.

"Oh." Following his eyes to the bed and back, Mac took a short breath. "I'm sorry, it never... never occurred to me you would want to sleep... somewhere else." Crossing her arms, she gently rubbed them, trying to chase away the chill that had come from nowhere.

Harm didn't know what to say. He knew there was nothing improper if they shared a bed. They were legally married, but it felt wrong. It felt like taking advantage somehow, and yet the look on her face left him wishing he hadn't said anything.

"I'd better go get clean sheets for you." Mac turned rather abruptly, walking past him.

"Mac." Harm reached out and gently grabbed her arm.

Stopping short at his side, "Yes?" Her eyes drew upward, locking on his.

Harm found himself drawn into her large, sad, dark eyes. "What would your Harm do?"

"My Harm hated sleeping alone." They had both dreaded assignments that forced them to sleep apart.

"I see." Harm was still holding gently onto Mac, his eyes flickered briefly downward at the hand gripping her arm.

"But he also slept in a chair our entire trip to Russia," Mac smiled at the memory. She just wished the noble side of her Harm wasn't winning out tonight.

"Mac." Harm hesitated a beat, struggling for the right words. "Do you want me to stay downstairs?" His voice was low and unsteady. Releasing his grip, his eyes once again locked onto hers.

To Mac it felt as though Harm's fingers were slipping away in slow motion, as though he were slipping even further away. Her voice stuck in her throat, but she managed to quietly whisper, "No." Still staring into his troubled gaze, she cleared her throat, "I don't expect, I mean, you wouldn't have to... that is..."

Lightly tapping her arm, he interrupted her, his voice a little stronger. "Which side of the bed is mine?"

"Left side." Mac watched him step into the room. Still gripped by the grappling emotions of fear, desperation, and now relief, she thought maybe tonight she could finally get a decent night's sleep. Knowing Harm was where he belonged made all the difference in the world.

**Chapter 23**

Harm stopped when he reached his side of the bed. He stared long and hard at the comfortable looking piece of furniture before scanning the room and turning back to where Mac was still standing.

"I don't know what to do," he almost whispered.

Mac was momentarily confused. She wasn't sure what Harm was referring to. Surely, he wasn't worried about having to 'be' with her. Before she could analyze the situation further, Harm had read the curl in her brow.

"Where are my pajamas?" he started. "Do I have a night-time routine?" He raised his arm to the other side of the room. "Which is the bathroom door?"

With every question Mac could see his frustration level approaching a breaking point. The day had been so easy and smooth, she'd forgotten she still needed to walk him through every step of their lives.

"You don't like pajamas," she interrupted quickly before he could work himself into a tizzy.

Harm's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped visibly open, but no words came out. Mac didn't dare try to imagine what was running through his mind.

"You prefer sleeping in your boxers. In the winter you'll sleep with a t-shirt, too." Mac hesitated waiting for some reaction, deciding it was probably best to keep talking. Walking around the bed, she opened a door. "This is our closet. It's a walk-in, unusual for these older homes." She moved a few feet to the next door. "This is the linen closet, and over here is the bathroom." Holding the bathroom door open, she waved one arm into the room.

Harm took a few steps closer, and looked inside. Turning back to look at Mac, his voice was weak, almost scared. "Do I at least own pajamas?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you do." A flood of relief washed through her. The look on his face told her a negative response would not have been well received. "You have one pair. We bought them for that summer vacation we took with the Roberts family by the shore when we were stationed in England. We shared a cottage and you thought it would be more prudent to sleep in pajamas." Hurrying into the closet, Mac rummaged through a few shelves before pulling out the nightwear.

"Here you go."

"Thank you. Do you want to go first?" he asked almost timidly.

"Go first?" Mac was confused again.

"The bathroom. To change."

"Oh! No, I usually change in here, um, I mean, why don't you go first."

Harm nodded his head, proceeding to the bathroom he stopped short in the doorway. "Did we bring my toothbrush and things from the hospital?"

"No." Mac quickly rushed past him into the bathroom. "I thought you'd prefer your own things." She reached across the sink and picked out his toothbrush. "You prefer the Arm and Hammer toothpaste. I use the one for sensitive teeth."

"Thank you." Harm stiffly accepted the toothbrush and waited for Mac to leave before continuing on his original mission.

Mac watched the door close and heard the latch of the lock. A sinking feeling slammed into the pit of her stomach. They had never locked each other out of the bathroom, probably a natural progression from Harm's old apartment that didn't even have a bathroom door, never mind a lock. For the first time all day it hit her she was about to sleep with a stranger. He had done such an excellent job of pretending for the children's sake that she had allowed herself to almost believe things weren't really different. But they were. Her Harm may be buried somewhere deep inside this Harm and trying to get out, but the man locked in her bathroom and putting on pajamas was not her husband.

When Mac came back to bed after her turn in the bathroom, Harm was sound asleep at the very edge of the bed. Quietly, she turned out the light and slid under the covers. Even if the husband who would wrap himself around her every night before falling asleep was gone, she was still thankful at least he was alive.

The next morning, Mac had gotten the children off to school and was cleaning the kitchen when she heard Harm coming down the stairs. She had tried to keep the kids as quiet as possible so he could get some much needed rest. Although he'd done a wonderful job of hiding his discomfort, she knew parts of him had to still hurt like hell.

"Good morning," she called to him cheerily.

"Do I have a bathrobe?"

Mac wasn't used to seeing Harm come downstairs looking quite so rumpled.

"I think your mom washed it and put it away. Usually it's on the hook behind the bathroom door."

"Did she put away my slippers, too?"

"Actually, they're under my side of the bed." Mac wanted to kick herself. She should have realized the things she took for granted would be a source of major frustration for him, and having spent the last few weeks prancing around the house in his oversized slippers and leaving them under her side of the bed wasn't helping him any.

"Your side?"

"I was... borrowing them."

A slow rising flood of understanding surged through his system washing away all his frustrations. It was so easy to forget he wasn't the only one struggling. He might not be able to find his slippers or hairbrush, but she couldn't find her husband. He was going to have to remember to cut everyone, including himself, some slack.

"If you wouldn't mind helping me find the bathrobe, please?"

"Of course not." Mac dropped the sponge on the counter and hurried up the stairs. By the time Harm arrived behind her, she'd already pulled out the slippers and the robe and was rummaging in the closet. "Do you know what you'd like to wear today?" She waited for a response, not surprised at the silence. Stepping out of the closet, she handed Harm a pile of clothing, "Since you don't have to go anywhere, I thought these might be comfortable for you."

Harm accepted the clothes and smiled without looking at them. "I'm sure they'll be fine. Thank you."

The remainder of the day was spent watching home videos. Mac explained as much as she could at different intervals. She especially enjoyed telling the stories that made Harm laugh. They watched a video of Bud and Harriet's wedding. Harm was holding his sides in pain as she explained about the pregnant stripper, Lydia Beaumont Sims, and the Admiral joining them in jail. Her heart was still fluttering from the sound of Harm's voice when he'd casually commented, "You haven't changed at all. You're still just as beautiful."

He'd been so intent on watching the video that he never noticed the way Mac's cheeks had flushed at the complement. Until now, she wasn't even sure if this Harm found her attractive.

In only two days, Harm seemed so much more comfortable in his role as a father. Mac could almost see a glint of pride in his eyes as he watched the kids roam the house. At dinnertime she was even surprised when she heard Harm reminding Tommy not to talk with his mouth full. When the kids were home, it was as if her Harm was back. He often stumbled over things he should know, should have recognized, but the kids would smile at him and remind him, or explain it to him, and everything would quickly be right with the world again. It didn't seem to bother them that their dad didn't remember Tommy's game winning goal, or Trisha's piano recital. Trisha got a kick out of teaching her dad how to play tic tac toe, and Harm seemed to take it all in stride. It was almost as if he was enjoying learning to be a dad.

If only she could find a way to help him learn about himself as easily. The look in his eyes when he couldn't find his robe or slippers this morning had almost frightened her. She didn't know what had come over him to make him smile and ask for help, but there were times, heaven help her, when she dreaded being alone with him, worrying about what he might not know next.

**Chapter 24 **

Shortly after dinner Mac was surprised when the doorbell rang.

"Is this a good time to come in?" Meredith asked.

"We were just coming from the Roberts' house and thought we'd stop and check on Harm," AJ added.

"No, this is fine. We've had a good day. Come in, please." Mac took the couple's jackets and directed them into the den. "We have company," she called into the room.

"Uncle AJ!" Both Rabb children sprang up from in front of the TV and ran to hug two of their favorite people.

"Did you bring me any candy?" Tommy asked gleefully.

Reaching into his pocket, AJ grinned broadly, handing each child a candy cane. "Don't eat it all at once and remember to brush your teeth twice."

Harm watched the interaction with great interest. He hadn't gotten much of a feel for who this man was. Mac had explained he had been their CO for over three years before they'd gotten married, and he'd gone to great lengths in order for them to continue working together until she'd gotten pregnant with Trisha. But the significance of what she had tried to explain had escaped him. He couldn't remember anything about the Navy. The reflexive salute that day at Bethesda was the only thing that came even close to a memory of being in the Navy, and even that didn't mean anything to him. It had been an automatic response, much like covering his mouth when he yawned. No one had needed to re-teach him that, he just did it. Of all the friends he had met, this man definitely intrigued Harm the most.

"Why don't you two go get ready for bed, and then maybe Uncle AJ can be convinced to tell you a story?" Mac bribed. AJ had an unusual gift for getting the kids to bed quickly with the promise of one of his sailor stories.

"Cool!" Tommy grinned.

"If you'll excuse me a few minutes." Mac followed the children upstairs. With a child in each tub, bath time would go by more quickly this evening.

"I see you've decided to give up shaving," AJ chuckled, shaking Harm's hand.

Brushing his hand across his chin, Harm smiled pensively. "I guess so,"

"How are you feeling otherwise, son?" AJ took a seat on the nearby sofa.

"Not bad. Still moving slowly. Physical therapy starts on my shoulder tomorrow afternoon."

"I thought they started on those things right away?"

"I did have a little therapy before leaving the hospital."

AJ nodded. "Meredith, do you think you could rustle us up a couple of drinks?"

"I was just thinking that. Harm?"

"No thanks, I've got a drink, but help yourself to anything you find."

"How are you doing really?" AJ wasn't one for beating around the bush, and he'd been worried about the toll coming home would have on his longtime friend.

"It could be worse. I don't seem to have the children from hell, and my wife is pretty easy on the eyes." Harm tried to laugh the question off.

"I know you don't remember me, but we've never let each other down. When my daughter was kidnapped by the Italian mafia, you were the one to help me rescue her, breaking several international treaties in the process." A hint of smile teased the corners of AJ's mouth. Not many men would have risked so much for a CO, a friend.

Harm's eyes opened wide. He had a feeling his old self was going to continue to be full of surprises. "Would I be correct in assuming my loyalties weren't misplaced?"

AJ smiled broadly. "I did my best." He studied the torn look on Harm's face. The man was struggling; there was no doubt of that. "What is it, Harm?"

"I keep watching movies of a past I can't remember. Mac tells me story after story of the places we've been, things we've done, people I should know. It's like I'm reading another man's biography. I can't feel any of it. All I seem to feel is confusion and frustration. There are so many things I'm sure I should know, but I haven't got a clue."

AJ could hear the rising frustration in Harm's voice.

"I have a beautiful wife, but she's a stranger. Hell, I don't even know her favorite color, her favorite food. Does she like to hold hands or mind kissing in public? Am I supposed to touch her, hold her, kiss her? What does she like, how does she like it? I don't know! I feel like I'm living in another man's shadow and there's no way I can compete."

"Then stop trying to compete. Give yourself time," AJ started.

"I'm not going to remember," Harm huffed.

"No, but you can still learn. Harmon Rabb's history may be gone, but the man is still inside you. The essence of who you are won't change. You may not remember some unwritten code of honor that a naval officer supposedly lives by, but your heart is the same. It will show you. You don't have to remember who Harmon Rabb was to help a stranger in need, or to remember how to treat a lady, or how to love your wife."

**Upstairs**

**Same time**

"Hey, lady. How's it going?" Meredith had decided AJ didn't really need a drink and had gone in search of Mac instead, not surprised to find her sitting on her bed, staring out the window. "How are you holding up?"

"He offered to sleep in the guest room," Mac mumbled.

Meredith pressed her lips and nodded slowly, "He did, did he?" She gathered by the choice of words offered that, for whatever reason, Harm had indeed slept in his own bed.

Mac nodded her head, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with her wedding ring.

"I can't imagine how hard this must be for you." Meredith sat down on the bed next to her.

"Sometimes, mostly when he's with the kids, it's like nothing happened, but the rest of the time, it's like talking to a stranger. No matter how many videos we watch, how many stories I tell him, none of it registers. None of it makes a difference. To me it's our lives, who we are. To him, they're just stories. Like watching an old movie." Mac lowered her voice so her daughter wouldn't hear.

"Things will get better. You have to remember it wasn't long ago we didn't think he was going to ever wake up."

"He didn't," Mac almost spat.

"Oh, honey. He may not have woken up the way you wanted him to, but in his heart he's here with you." Pulling Mac into a tight hug, Meredith suddenly wished she'd had a doctorate in psychology instead of English literature. "This is one time the Marines storming the beach won't help. You're going to have to be patient. Give him time. He's only been home a few days."

"My head knows that, but my heart just wants him to look at the right photograph, the right face, and remember everything. I want him back, Meredith. All of him!" Mac couldn't let herself cry. Trisha would be coming out of the bathroom soon and didn't need to find her mom bawling on the bed with Aunt Meredith.

Wiping the few tears from her cheek, Mac feigned a smile. "I'd better go check on Tommy. He must look like a prune by now."

"You're right. I'll go check on the big boys downstairs." Giving her friend one last hug, Meredith headed for the kitchen in search of a couple of drinks, praying AJ's conversation with Harm had been more productive. The last thing anyone wanted was for this thing to tear these two apart.

**Chapter 25**

Harm rolled over in bed, opening one eye to see the time. Mac had let him sleep in again. He'd had a somewhat restless night. The Admiral's words crept in and out of his dreams. It was all too much. He was putting all his energies into learning to be a dad again to his kids. He hadn't even tried to fathom if he could return to the Navy, or if he'd even want to, and then there was Mac.

Rubbing his face. This was all too much for him. He needed to focus on one thing at a time, one day at a time.

Mac was downstairs sorting through more home videos, picking out ones that might be especially helpful for Harm to better remember his history with the kids. They'd spent so much time looking at the videos from the early years that Harm had no idea about the things the kids remembered and talked about from the recent past.

She'd just placed another video on the stack when she heard a loud crash coming from the bedroom. Taking the stairs two steps at a time, Mac came to a screeching halt when she saw what was basically tantamount to a forty-seven year old temper tantrum. She could see through the doorway that all the lotions, perfumes and miscellaneous toiletries on the bathroom counter were scattered across the floor, and Harm was now in the bedroom tossing clothing and drawers on the floor like a madman.

"Harm!" she called loudly.

"This isn't me!" he screamed back, tossing another drawer across the room.

"HARM!" she yelled more forcefully, afraid to get any closer. Dear God. She was afraid to get close to her husband. Of all the years she'd been with Harm as colleague or lover, she'd never once been afraid of him.

"I can't find a damn thing!"

"What do you need?" Mac tried to keep her tone under control.

"EVERYTHING!" He spun around wildly. "I found a razor, but no shaving cream. I used the baby powder deodorant yesterday but I KNOW it's not mine. I can only find one hair brush, and it's PINK!"

Harm rubbed his face forcefully, almost as if he was trying to rub it away, rub away any remnant of the man he didn't know.

"Harm, take it easy," Mac urged.

"Take it easy!" he screamed. "All I can find are black socks. No brown, no blue, no white! There's a closet full of white shirts. I've got every color uniform in there you could imagine; blue, white, tan, even BDUs. That's not me! All I want is something to wear to therapy! Is that asking so much!"

Mac flinched at his use of BDU. Why could he remember meaningless things like that and not remember there's no shaving cream in the house because he uses an electric razor? Pressing her lips tightly, she promised herself she wouldn't cry, but the well of tears was pooling heavily in her eyes.

"We keep our uniforms on one side of the closet and the civvies on the other," she answered as calmly as she could despite the overwhelming urge to break down and cry.

"Civvies?" Damn that blasted code! Couldn't the military speak English like everyone else?

"Civilian clothes. If you don't like the clothes you already have, maybe we could do a little shopping and get something you're more comfortable with." Mac struggled with the tears still threatening to flow.

For the first time since he'd begun his temper tirade, Harm paused to look at Mac. Really look at her. Immediately he was struck by the watery glow in her eyes and realized two things: one, she was fighting tears, and two, she was still standing in the doorway, obviously afraid to come in.

Looking around the room, he was horrified to see the mess he'd created. All the anger had poured out of him and now he was filled with nothing but shame and disgust. Falling heavily onto his knees, he cried the tears Mac hadn't dare shed.

There were only a few times in her life Mac had seen Harm cry. This was the first time since this nightmare had begun that she had felt his pain. She'd seen his frustration, confusion and even his anger, but she'd never felt the pain. Her own fears discarded, she rushed to the floor beside him. "Get up before you hurt yourself," she urged. Wrapping an arm around him, she nudged him until he slowly got up. Keeping her arm around his waist, the two walked over and sat down, side by side, on the edge of the bed.

"I'm so sorry," Harm mumbled, his eyes focused on a pile of Mac's underwear dumped from one of the drawers. "The Admiral mentioned I needed a shave."

"The military and five o'clock shadow don't mesh well," Mac explained casually, her voice steadier.

"He was right. I looked awful. I found a razor in the shower but there was no shaving cream."

"The razor is mine. I use it on my legs with soap, not shaving cream. You have an electric razor you like. It's in the second drawer to the far right, along with your hairbrush."

"And the deodorant?"

"In the medicine cabinet. All the things on the tray are... were mine."

"What medicine cabinet?" Harm was a little surprised by Mac's calm demeanor after his insane behavior.

"That pseudo-Picasso isn't just decoration. It's the door to the medicine cabinet. You didn't like the plain oak so you changed it for something more colorful. I'm sorry. I should have thought to explain all this to you after your frustration at not finding things yesterday morning. It's just... you remember so many little things that I forget how many you can't recall."

"That's part of what's so infuriating! Why can I remember I need shaving cream to go with a razor, but can't remember I have an electric shaver?"

"You remembered BDUs," Mac snorted to herself.

"I remembered what?" Harm looked over at Mac. She was slumped over slightly. He could almost see the broken spirit; not the strong-shouldered Marine he'd come to know since he'd woken up.

"BDUs are the camouflage uniforms we have to wear in certain conditions. Usually when we're near a combat zone." Mac couldn't stop the heavy sigh that escaped. Watching Harm in so much pain had drained her almost as much as it had probably drained him.

"I... I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry for that too." Harm placed his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to erase the terrified look in her eyes as she'd stood in the doorway watching him. He'd seen her worried, sad, even heartbroken, but never anything as primal as that look of sheer horror.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way. I should know better. You would never hurt me."

Harm snorted at her blasé response. "You had every right to be scared to death at the madman loose in your bedroom, and I had no right to do that to you. I'm sorry." He didn't need to be told that his former self would never have lost control that way.

"Our bedroom," she softly corrected. "What do you say we start the morning over?" Mac took a deep breath. "Let's clean up this mess. We'll go through everything in the bathroom, closets and dressers. Anything you don't like or want, we'll put away in a box. After therapy today I can ask Harriet to take the kids home with her, and you and I can go shopping for a few things that feel more like you."

Harm stared stunned into her huge brown eyes. Just like that she'd forgiven him and moved on. "Sounds like a plan," he replied in awe of the woman beside him. He wasn't sure he could be so altruistic if the situation had been reversed.

"Good. I'll make us a fresh pot of coffee and then we can tackle... this." Mac stood up and waved her arm across the span of the room.

"Mac?" Harm tilted his head watching her walk away.

"Yes?" She hesitated.

"What's your favorite color?"

**Chapter 26**

**Roberts' Home**

**Two weeks later  
**

The next couple of weeks had come and gone with little import. Harm had rearranged all of his things in the bathroom, bedroom and closet the way he wanted. It was much easier than trying to remember what used to be. Once Mac had shown him where all his civilian things were he didn't see any need to spend time shopping. Something told him shopping wasn't something he was fond of anyhow. He did, however, pack up all the uniforms and move them to the attic. He hadn't given it any serious thought, but deep down he knew he would never again be the man he had been, and a big part of that was the Navy.

By now Harm had watched every video in the house several times over. He'd studied the faces and dialogue as though he were memorizing a role for a theatrical performance. In a way that's how he felt. He was playing the part of Harmon Rabb.

The one thing he was still having a hard time filling in the blanks on was his relationship with Mac. There was plenty of information from after the wedding but very little from before. The few times he'd attempted to broach the subject, Mac brushed it off.

"Well, it looks like we finally get some peace and quiet." Bud set a beer down on the table in front of Harm.

"Oh, and how exactly did you accomplish that?"

"I had nothing to do with it. Harriet and Mac are taking the kids to Sliders and Blues for dessert. That should be good for at least two hours of entertainment. So, which game do you want to watch?" Bud grabbed the remote for the large screen TV.

"Doesn't matter to me." Harm had watched sports on TV but so far he hadn't developed the love of basketball that Mac had indicated he used to have.

Flipping the channels, Bud watched Harm out of the corner of his eye. The conversation so far had been light and friendly. The families had chatted over the weather, the children, the neighbors, and even ventured into political affairs. Very little was mentioned about anything that Harm might not remember, and discussion of the Navy and the pentagon was completely avoided.

"That shoulder is looking pretty good," Bud ventured.

"Therapy is coming along well, but I guess you know all about that."

"Yeah, I do. Takes work and persistence. Doesn't hurt to have a beautiful woman at your back," Bud smiled.

"No. I suppose not." Harm began playing with the label on his bottle.

"Something on your mind?"

"It must have been hard for you and Harriet, after the accident, I mean. Picking up where you left off."

"It didn't help that Harriet insisted on mothering me."

"I suppose there were some... rough seas there?" Harm snorted quietly. He could remember nautical metaphors and yet still had no recollection of the woman he had obviously once been very much in love with. He'd watched enough videos to notice the way he and Mac had been. The way he'd watched her when he thought she wasn't looking, the subtle touches and careful caresses. He could see it in both their eyes.

"It was tough, don't get me wrong, but no, Harriet and I never really had any trouble. She was a pillar of support. I don't think I would have made it through without her." Noticing Harm was fidgeting mindlessly with his label, Bud took a chance. "Having problems with the Colonel?"

"Not exactly."

Bud sat quietly waiting for Harm to continue.

"I mean, you can't lose something you never remember having." Harm knew he wasn't making much sense. "There's no relationship to have trouble with."

"Ah... sort of like living with your sister?"

"More like living with a neighbor. A sister I'd feel something for."

"And you don't feel anything for the Colonel?"

"Of course I do." Harm looked up at hearing his own words. "She's a lovely, smart, strong, sweet woman," he justified.

"But...?"

"I don't know. I shouldn't have said anything." Harm set the beer bottle down on the table loudly. "Why won't Mac tell me about us?"

"Us?"

"Well, we were married in October of 1999. In January of 1998 I was dating Annie Pendry. At your wetdown in April of 1999 I was dating Jordan. When the hell did I date Mac? She won't tell me. I even thought maybe it was a one night stand or something and we had to get married, but Trisha wasn't born until 2001."

Bud could hear the growing frustration in Harm's voice. "I don't know what Mac has or hasn't told you, but I think you need to see something." Standing up, Bud walked into another room. A few minutes later he returned holding two large albums.

"Harriet and Tiner had a thing for taking photographs." Bud waved for Harm to come sit next to him. "This was when you and the then-Major first met." Bud pointed to photos of Harm and Mac in the Arizona desert.

"Where was Harriet?" Harm looked at photo after photo. Even if she'd been the photographer, she should have been in at least one or two photos.

Clearing his throat, Bud admitted bashfully, "I may have started the propensity to take photos."

Harm swallowed a knowing smile and watched as Bud flipped through various pages.

"These were taken shortly after you'd escaped from poachers in the mountains. That's when Harriet thinks things changed. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the connection between you both seemed ... stronger some how."

Bud went through more photos: the NATO ball, working together to defend the ex-SEAL accused of murder, after the terrorists at Mercy hospital.

"When was this?" There was one photo that especially caught Harm's attention. The photo was of the Admiral and a younger woman at a party, but on either side of the pair, he and Mac were looking at each other from opposite sides of the room. Harm lifted it off the page to look more closely.

"That was at the party the Admiral threw for his daughter Francesca. We didn't all know it at the time, but Mac was being stalked. You and she had concocted some trap to catch the stalker," Bud explained.

"That's the way I looked at her in some of our home movies."

"I'm not surprised."

"We weren't dating or anything?"

Bud shook his head no. "I think things were winding down with Annie at that time."

Especially curious now, Harm continued looking through more photos. Bud would explain the ones where Harm noticed the connection between him and Mac. Some were right after he'd tried to kill someone over a dead girlfriend. Some others were from Bud and Harriet's wedding. Even though Harm had apparently brought another woman, a few of the photos caught glimpses of how he and Mac had obviously felt about each other. By the time Harm got to the photos from the party at the Sudanese Embassy, he'd seen enough.

"What you're saying is that Mac and I were in love and did nothing about it?" Harm closed the album.

"I believe so."

"This went on for..."

"Almost three years." Bud did the calculations for him.

"What changed?"

"We're not sure, but we think it had something to do with AJ's birth."

"Why?"

Chuckling loudly, Bud recounted, in greater detail than Harm had ever heard, the story of the day AJ was born. He ended with the day Harm and Mac arrived at his and Harriet's apartment to announce they were getting married.

"So just like that, one day we were mere colleagues and the next we were in love and getting married?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. Now you know how we felt, but you and Mac seemed to think it made perfect sense. We'd never seen you happier."

**Chapter 27**

**Golden Gate Mall**

Two weeks later 31 days and 3 weeks and 30 (changed from one week to two weeks at posting) 

"You're sure you want to try this?" Mac asked for the millionth time in the last hour.

"It's just a little ice." Harm finished tying Tommy's laces and waddled out to the rink, Mac and Trisha following close behind.

Harm took one step on the ice and his feet skidded awkwardly before sliding out from under him, landing him on his six and almost taking Tommy down with him.

Tommy and Trisha looked at each other in a near panic before looking up at their mom.

"I'll give Daddy a few pointers. You two go off for a little while, and stay together. Did you hear me Tommy?" she called after her son. "Hold onto your sister's hand."

Harm had managed to grab onto the side rails and hoist himself back on his feet. "I gather I didn't do this often in my previous life?" He flashed a hint of his old flyboy smile.

"No. You really didn't. Here, give me your hands and take it slowly." Mac had moved in front of him, holding her hands out for him to hang on to, and was carefully skating backwards.

"You seem to be doing well," Harm kept his eyes on Mac's feet.

"Trisha and I took lessons together. That got me started. The rest was just practice coming here with the kids."

"And I didn't take lessons?"

"You said if men were meant to walk on ice they'd have been born with webbed feet," Mac chuckled softly, amused at Harm's stiff efforts to skate.

"Well that makes no sense. I flew planes and didn't claim if men were meant to fly they'd have been born with wings." Harm was still mostly watching Mac's feet, slowly feeling a little steadier on his own.

Laughing heartily, Mac shook her head at him. "Yeah, well, that argument never got me very far."

"Well, I'm trying now. Surely that counts for something?"

"It does," she grinned sweetly.

"Okay, I think I'm getting the hang of this. Come around this way." Harm let go of one hand and tugged at Mac with the other to join him at his side.

"You sure?" She hesitated before moving over, secretly pleased he was at least still holding one hand.

"Yeah, come on before I land on my ass again."

"Hey look!" Trisha called as she and Tommy whizzed by. "Daddy's really skating."

"Don't look so surprised!" Harm shouted to his children's backs, waving his free arm at them.

"Hey watch it!" Mac warned. The extra motion had made Harm wobbly on his feet and his weight was pulling Mac with him.

"Oh, sorry." Harm tried to turn slightly to steady them and instead lost his balance even further.

Their feet wobbling and slipping, Mac wrapped an arm around Harm, trying desperately to catch her balance. By the time they'd got their footing, Harm's arms were locked around Mac, and his breath was blowing heavily against her cheek.

"You okay?" he asked softly against her skin. Even in the cool outdoors she still smelled delicious.

"Uh...yeah." Lifting her face to answer him, she found herself staring at his lips, barely an inch away from her.

"You...uh...sure?" This was the closest to holding her he'd ever come and he wasn't at all surprised to discover he didn't want to let go.

"Pretty sure." Mac couldn't stand it any more. It had seemed like forever since she'd felt his strong arms around her, and now his lips were so close to hers. She wasn't sure who moved first, but the feel of his warm lips on hers sent shivers racing down her spine. It was a soft, sweet, tender kiss that reminded her of the warmth and love she'd been so desperately missing. Without realizing it, she shifted her weight, unconsciously trying to get even closer to the man she missed so very much. Instead of feeling the strength of his body against hers, she felt his mouth slipping away. The next thing she knew they were flailing in a tangle of arms and legs before landing with a thud in a large mangled heap.

"Are you okay?" they chuckled simultaneously.

"It serves me right for trying to kiss on a first date," Harm laughed.

"Date? I got news for you buster," Mac laughed until she realized exactly what it was Harm had said. Her eyes suddenly widened with surprise.

"Would dinner be better?" He smiled at her startled expression.

"Do you need some help?" a strange voice offered.

Harm and Mac had been so engrossed in the moment that neither had noticed the traffic jam their prone bodies had created in the flow of skaters.

"Oh, thank you." Mac extended her arm while two other strangers helped Harm up.

As soon as they made it off the rink, Harm turned a little more steadily to face Mac. "You didn't answer my question. Would you please join me for dinner?"

"I... I think I'd like that."

Harm didn't have much chance to respond when both kids came up behind them.

"Is it time to go already?" Trisha asked.

"No. You can take a few more rounds. Dad and I are going to sit over there and watch."

"Okay!" With the speed and agility that only comes with youth, the two kids were back on the ice, skating up a storm.

**Rabb Home**

**Friday night  
**

Mac had pulled out four different outfits, tried on three of them, and she still couldn't find something she thought was right.

"Knock knock," Harriet announced from the doorway. "I'm here to pick up Trisha but thought I'd check on you first."

"Oh, thank God you're here. I'm never going to find something to wear. Harm dropped Tommy off at Sue's half an hour ago. He thinks as soon as you pick up Trisha we'll be ready to go."

"Let's see what you've got here?" Harriet walked over to the bed. "This one is very nice." She held up a brown pair of slacks with a matching turtleneck.

"I don't want nice, Harriet. I want 'Wow, what are you doing for the rest of your life?'

"While I understand the sentiment, I think a simple 'Wow, can we do this again' would be sufficient." Walking into Mac's closet, Harriet started sifting through the clothes. "Where are those really nice black... here they are. And that nice black sweater that's almost a turtleneck on one side but unbuttons on the other to show your shoulder?"

"It's over here." Mac walked over and opened an overstuffed drawer, rummaging through a variety of colors before pulling out the sweater Harriet had suggested.

"Perfect. That says not too dressy, not too casual, just enough 'hot'.

"You don't think the leather pants are a bit much?"

"Not with your figure," Harriet smiled.

"You sure?"

"Positive. Go get dressed, I'll get Trisha and get out of here." Kissing Mac quickly on the cheek, Harriet patted her arm reassuringly. "Just have fun."

"Thanks, Harriet." As fast as she could, Mac changed her clothes and freshened up her makeup. She ran a brush through her hair and tried to convince herself that tonight wasn't anything special.

Harm had been pacing the den like a caged lion. He'd spent the last few days reminding himself of what the Admiral had told him. This wasn't a competition, but he couldn't help feeling he had to live up to who he used to be. When he heard Mac's footsteps coming down the stairs, his stomach did one last flip-flop. "My God, you're beautiful."

**Chapter 28**

Harm pulled up in front of Angelo's Italian Restaurant. Getting out of the car, he said a quick prayer and walked around to get Mac's door. "Bud recommended this place. Have you ever been here before?"

"No, but I've heard good things about it."

Harm let his hand fall on the small of her back as they walked inside. He briefly considered pulling it away, but decided it was time he started treating her like a wife again, or at least a girlfriend.

By slipping the maitre d a little something extra, Harm was able to secure a quiet table in the back near the sizzling fireplace.

"This is just lovely," Mac smiled, taking her seat.

"You mentioned you liked Italian."

"I did?"

"When I first got out of the hospital. The neighbors were still making suppers, Harriet asked you if a lasagna was alright and you told her you loved anything Italian." Harm picked up his menu, pleased with the small smile that bloomed.

"Good evening. My name is Drew. I'll be your waiter this evening. May I interest you in a nice bottle of wine?"

Harm looked over at the wine list, wondering if there was any point. It was unlikely he'd recognize any of them. When he looked up and saw the almost frightened look on Mac's face, he couldn't imagine what had happened.

"I...don't drink," she stumbled.

Harm thought about it quickly. The few times they'd gone over to the Roberts', Bud and he had always had a beer and Harriet and Mac drank soda. Once he saw Harriet with a glass of wine, but Mac was still drinking soda.

"May I get you something else?" the young man asked, not skipping a beat.

"Soda with a twist, please."

"I'll have a..." Harm hesitated a moment.

"Why don't you try a bourbon?" Mac suggested.

"Okay, bourbon please, straight up." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he looked over at Mac. A small smile was tugging at one side of her mouth. "I gather that was my drink of choice?"

Mac waited until the waiter had gone to get their beverages. "Sometimes. You like beer. Some wines."

"But you don't drink?"

"Not in twelve years."

Harm tilted his head. There was a story there somewhere.

"I'm an alcoholic." Mac looked him straight in the eye, much the way she had the first time she told Harm she used to drink.

"You were still drinking when we first met?" he responded incredulously. That made no sense. They'd met fifteen years ago and yet she'd only been sober for twelve. There was no way she would have been a reputable attorney at JAG HQ if she'd been a boozer.

"No. My Uncle Matt took me to dry out after my best friend was killed in a car accident. After that I joined the Marines. I fell off the wagon when Dalton Lowne was murdered. You made sure I got right back on again."

"That was when you were being stalked?"

"How'd you know about that?"

"Bud told me."

"Are you ready to order?" The young waiter interrupted, placing their drinks on the table.

"I'm afraid not. Just a minute." Looking down at his menu, Harm spoke to Mac, "Okay. Any idea what you'd like?"

"I'm going to start out with the mussels marinara, and then I'll have the shrimp scampi."

"Sounds good. I'll have the same." In actuality Harm wasn't sure if he'd like any of it. He handed the waiter his menu and raised his glass. "To the most beautiful woman on the eastern seaboard."

"Only the eastern seaboard?" Mac teased.

"Mom's in San Diego. You wouldn't want me to play favorites?" Harm grinned impishly.

"Good answer," she smiled back

Harm marveled at how her eyes twinkled when her smile was sincere. He hadn't seen that very often. He only now realized how much of a front she'd been putting on all this time.

"You know, between you, and Mom, and all the videos I've watched, I have a pretty good idea of who Harmon Rabb Jr. is, but I still know very little about Sarah MacKenzie."

Mac's smile turned bashful. Harm was right. She and his mom had practically force fed him every detail of his life, hoping something would be the key to unlocking his memories.

"Tell me, where were you born?" And with that, Harm began filing away many of the missing pieces that made up the woman he wanted to know better. He was well aware that she was an excellent lawyer and well-respected Marine, as well as a fabulous mother and from what little he'd seen, wife. Now he was ready to find out everything there was to know about Sarah Mackenzie Rabb.

Over dinner Mac told him about her family. She filled him in on the history with her mom, her dad, and the entire story of Uncle Matt and the Declaration of Independence. She told him about John Farrow and her ex-husband. As she spoke, she watched Harm's expressions change from bewilderment, to astonishment, to occasional humor when she mentioned some of her quirks, such as often reading two or three books at a time.

"I've been doing a lot of reading lately myself while you're at the office. So far I think my favorite is a toss up between Louis L'Amour and John Grisham."

"I'm glad someone is finally reading those Louis L'Amour books. Frank sent them to you as a birthday gift years ago. He said you needed more variety in your life."

"He must have known something. I think they're pretty entertaining."

Over dessert they debated books and authors, and enjoyed the piano player over coffee.

Their coffee cold from all the conversation, Harm reached over and laid his hand gently over hers, his thumb swirling gentle caresses. "Would you care to dance?"

"That would be lovely."

Still holding the hand he'd been caressing, Harm led Mac to the tiny dance floor at the foot of the baby grand piano. Pulling her casually against him, yet remaining careful not to hold her too closely, they began to gently sway to the soft music.

"Did we go dancing often?" Harm asked.

"Not as often as we might have liked." Mac shifted in a little closer.

"We'll have to change that," he smiled.

"Works for me," Mac agreed. For years, dancing at political functions had been the only way she'd gotten to bask in the feel of Harm's embrace. She wouldn't object to doing it again. It was better than not having him hold her at all.

Humming softly, while swirling around the floor, Mac recognized the song 'It Had To Be You' and unconsciously snuggled into Harm's shoulder. Closing her eyes, she wandered back to another place and time.

**October 9, 1999**

**Officers Club **

**Annapolis**

"It had to be you," Harm softly sang into Mac's ear. "I wandered around and finally found somebody who..."

Dancing as closely as any two people dared in a public place, Mac could barely make her feet keep moving. The feel of Harm's breath on her face, the sound of his voice in her ear, and the feel of his arms holding her tight were making her want to forget the reception and get started on the honeymoon.

"Have I mentioned how very much I love you, Mrs. Rabb?" Harm spun her around smoothly before planting the tiniest of kisses at the edge of her jaw.

"I like the sound of that: Mrs. Rabb," she sighed softly at the thought. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing it."

"Mrs. Rabb, Mrs. Rabb, Mrs. Rabb," Harm whispered over and over in her ear. He couldn't believe this day had finally arrived. He'd thought for sure he was going to wake up on the Patrick Henry and discover the baby deal and proposal had never happened, but it had. Every morning he woke up in DC one day closer to the wedding, and now he was finally dancing with his wife.

"Do you think anyone would notice if we left early?" Mac asked breathlessly.

"I'm game if you are. We've already cut the cake, and the merry maidens have battled for the holy bouquet. What do you say we dance towards the veranda doors and don't stop until we reach the car?"

"Sounds like a plan," Mac smiled.

Gliding casually across the floor, Harm continued singing in her ear. "It had to be you, wonderful you, it had to be you..."

**Chapter 29**

**Angelo's Restaurant**

**Year 2010**

Harm could tell something had changed the moment he felt Mac's head come to rest at the crook of his neck. This wasn't the carefully distant woman who had never dared to invade his space. Right away he recognized what must have happened. She was no longer dancing with her date, she was dancing with her husband. Unknowingly, she was allowing him a first hand glimpse into what they must have had. An overwhelming feeling of warmth and belonging washed over him. A sense of oneness and total comfort filled him so completely that for the first time since waking up in that hospital, he felt whole.

When the music stopped, Mac hadn't quite realized where she was. Opening her eyes, it was a full thirty seconds before the truth of her reality hit her with the force of a speeding bullet.

"I'm so sorry," she said hurriedly, stepping back just as quickly.

"Don't be. That was nice." Harm suddenly wanted to be her Harmon Rabb more than he wanted anything.

"Still, I shouldn't have..."

"Where were you?" His voice was soft and caring, but he wasn't going to pretend he hadn't realized what had happened. "Was it the song?" They'd been dancing for almost the whole set before she'd relaxed against him. The only thing it could have been was that last song. It obviously reminded her of something.

Nodding her head slowly, Mac smiled one of those sweet smiles that didn't reach her eyes. The ones Harm had been used to seeing more often than not. "We danced to that song at our wedding."

"I see." He had no idea what else to say. He could tell she was feeling badly. What he didn't know was if she was upset at having briefly forgotten herself, or if it was at finding herself back with him. "Maybe we should go back to the table?"

Despite the momentary awkwardness, they found themselves lost in conversation and coffee in no time at all. When the music started up twenty minutes later, Harm didn't hesitate to ask Mac to dance again. Although she remained in the here and now, keeping a polite distance for a date, something had changed. Neither could deny that.

"I can't remember the last time we stayed out late enough to close the joint," Mac chuckled, walking up the front steps.

"Well, that's a first."

Mac looked at him curiously, her brow curled in confusion.

"You not remembering." He smiled brightly, waiting for Mac to unlock the door.

"It happens," she shot back. "But don't get used to it." Laughing, she dropped her purse and keys on the table by the door and yawned loudly. "I hate to admit it, but I think I'm getting too old for this," she yawned again.

"I don't buy that for a minute, but..." Letting out a yawn as well, Harm chuckled before continuing. "I do hear my bed calling to me."

"Yeah, and thank you. I had a really nice time," Mac half smiled, half shrugged.

"So did I."

The two shuffled around each other clumsily trying to move towards the stairs, until Mac started to giggle.

Stepping aside, Harm waved his arm at the stairs. "Ladies first," he smiled.

Sharing a bedroom put an awkward spin on 'should you' or 'shouldn't you' kiss goodnight on a first date.

Harm knew better than to try. He wasn't sure it would be a good idea. His memory might not be working so well after being hit on the head, but the rest of him was working just fine. The temptation was too strong. He worried if he tried to kiss her that his desires could easily get the better of him, but what worried him more was, after that one dance, he knew it might be too easy for her to let herself pretend he was the old Harm. She deserved much better than that.

**Monday morning**

**Rabb kitchen  
**

Their lives had developed a routine normalcy. Mac was in charge of breakfast while Harm made the kids lunch. He'd begun sandwich duty a couple of weeks ago, and starting today, with Mac going back to work full time, Harm would be the one to take and pick up the kids from school. Until now they'd done it together. Mac would head into the office after dropping the kids off and be back home in time to go with Harm to pick them up. Now it would be Harm's responsibility, and he was actually looking forward to it. The days were starting to get very long. He'd read most of the books that held any interest for him and had started spending more time in his office going through some of the law books. So far very little had seemed even vaguely familiar.

"Hey, Dad?" Tommy asked without looking up from his plate.

"Yeah?" Harm answered from his post at the counter.

"Have you remembered how to make pancakes yet?"

"Have I what?" Harm glanced over at Mac and noticed the slight roll of her shoulders as she held in a laugh.

"You know, pancakes. Mom just doesn't do them the same." Tommy was holding up a splattered looking wafer. "I miss your dinosaurs."

Harm looked back at Mac again who was conveniently ignoring him.

"I'll see what I can do about it." Much to Harm's surprise, that answer seemed to be enough for his son.

When the kids had finished eating and run back upstairs to get their things, Harm turned to Mac. "Dinosaur pancakes?"

"It was your specialty," she shrugged.

"And exactly how did I do this?"

"It was a gift." Mac smiled, trying not to laugh.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, Harm decided he wasn't going to get very far pursuing the issue this morning, but it was obvious to him he was going to have to start practicing his cooking skills. Besides, with Mac not being around much, it only made sense.

"I'm going to just throw some spaghetti together tonight. Would you mind running to the store for me and picking up a jar of sauce and some mushrooms? I don't think I'll have time on my way home." Mac asked, fishing out some left over pot roast from the fridge.

"Sure." Harm had been with her to the market enough times to find his way, and it had only taken him a few turns around the parking lot to get the hang of driving.

"Good, okay. I'm out of here. Have a nice day." Mac gave him a short wave, hoping maybe some day soon that would change. She had thought after their date they might have overcome some of the invisible barriers between them, but they seemed to have fallen back into the familiar comfort of respectable distance. Standing at the bottom of the stairs she called up, "Kids, I'm leaving."

"Bye, Mom. Love you!" Trisha called from upstairs, shoving the last of her homework into her backpack.

"Me too!" Tommy came running down the stairs to give his mom a hug and a kiss. Mac thanked God he hadn't reached the age yet where he thought he was too big to be hugged.

A few minutes later both kids were downstairs and ready to go.

"Wait for me one minute. I've got to stop at the store for Mom, so we're going to take the car to school this morning." Harm handed them each a lunch and hurried up the stairs.

Pulling open his bedside drawer, Harm grabbed his wallet. A small ziploc bag accidentally fell to the floor. Bending down, he picked up the plastic baggie. It had been given to Mac at the hospital. Too distraught to deal with it at the time, she had simply tossed it in his night table. It contained everything he'd had on him the day of the crash: his wallet, his Annapolis ring, and his wedding band.

Harm had retrieved the wallet ages ago, but had chosen to ignore the remaining trinkets. Holding the bag tightly in his fingers he almost laughed at the irony of the contents. From everything he'd learned, his entire life could have been summed up by the last two items: the Navy and his wife.

**Chapter 30**

**Rabb house**

**Later that afternoon**

Harm had been staring at the books on his desk for hours and his head was spinning. Noticing the time, he jumped up and rushed to the kitchen. He had promised Mac he would start the water boiling for her, and he had promised himself he would start helping out more. It was obvious from some of the photos and stories that he had at least had some skill in the kitchen, and it was high time he relearned it.

By the time Mac came through the front door, Harm had sliced, diced and browned everything Harriet had suggested and had the sauce simmering on slow boil.

"What's this?" Mac asked, slowly approaching the pots on the stove.

"I hope it looks like dinner." Harm dropped a handful of pasta into the larger pot.

"Wow, what a nice surprise." She lifted the lid and sniffed the sauce. "This smells really good."

"Harriet helped," Harm smiled and dropped another handful of pasta in the pot. "She gave me her secret recipe."

"Oh, she did, did she?" Mac had taken a spoon from the drawer and was sampling the 'special recipe'. "Oh, you done good, sailor."

Dipping the utensil for a second taste, Mac didn't see the look on Harm's face at the rarely used nickname. It was a simple word, but it struck Harm that for a few seconds they'd fallen into the same pre-accident comfort zone they had at dinner the other night.

Harm decided to take advantage of the moment and do what came naturally. Placing the lid back on the pot, he leaned over and kissed Mac on the cheek. "Thanks!" Walking away he called to the kids in the other room. "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Time to wash up."

Mac stood stunned, still holding the spoon in mid air. He'd kissed her. Granted, it was only a peck on the cheek, but it was their first peck on the cheek since the one and only time she'd dared to kiss him goodbye back in the hospital. Of course, there was that one kiss at the rink, but this was somehow different.

"Mac..." Harm started, having turned back into the kitchen. "I think it's only fair I try and help more with dinner, at least for now."

"Works for me. You always liked cooking better than I did, anyhow," Mac shrugged nonchalantly, her casual demeanor back in place.

"I did?" Somehow it surprised him that a flying lawyer would like cooking.

"I'm not saying you're an Emeril or anything, but yeah."

Harm debated whether or not to ask what an Emeril was and decided he might as well quit while he was ahead.

**Following Saturday  
**

**Rabb house**

"Finally." Mac collapsed on the sofa, plopping her feet on the coffee table. "If it wasn't enough that this was the week from hell, our dining room has to become Niagara Falls the one day we've got a house full of six year old boys."

"At least it didn't upset the party. The boys thought it was great," Harm cajoled.

"Next season they can have the soccer party at someone else's house," Mac chuckled. "I suppose it could have been worse. If the bathroom didn't have a separate turn off valve we'd be without any water and paying a plumber double overtime." Mac let her head drop back against the sofa

"Well, we're not. The water is turned off, the dining room is mostly dry, and on Monday the plumber will let us know what caused the cascade."

"What time did Harriet say she was dropping Trisha off?"

"Oh, in all the commotion I forgot to tell you she called and said the girls were going to rent some movies and have a slumber party of sorts. I told her that would be fine."

"I guess I'd better go and see what Tommy is up to."

"Don't bother," Harm laid back. "He's out like a light, fell asleep as soon as that little Peterson kid left."

"Not a bad idea, too bad if I go to bed at this hour I'll be up at three o'clock in the morning." Sitting up a little, Mac turned to Harm. "Want to watch a movie?"

"That sounds nice. What would you like to see?"

Mac looked at Harm oddly. She'd forgotten that she and the new Harm hadn't ever watched a real movie together. At first they'd spent a lot of time watching family videos, and occasionally they'd watch something Disneyish with the kids, but they'd never had a movie night for just the two of them.

"After the day we've had, I think a comedy is in order. You find My Cousin Vinny, and I'll go make us some popcorn."

"Okay," Harm smiled a little more enthusiastically. This actually sounded like it might be fun.

Nibbling mindlessly at the huge bowl of popcorn Mac had placed between them, Harm laughed almost non-stop through the entire movie. Halfway through, he'd put the bowl on his lap and pulled Mac snugly against him, draping his arm across her shoulder.

Mac caught him peeking at her through the corner of his eye like a nervous teenager trying to cop a feel on a first date. Smiling broadly, she burrowed closer still, letting him know she was more than happy with the gesture.

"This was a fabulous idea." Harm smiled when the movie was over, despite the cool chill brushing against his side where Mac had been comfortably cocooned.

"Agreed. In spite of the blatant errors, no matter how many times I watch it, I always laugh." Mac walked over to the TV, retrieving the DVD from the player.

"Blatant errors?" Harm finished off the last of the popcorn in the bowl.

"Yeah. For one thing, no lawyer with that amount of inexperience would dare take a capital murder case."

"No?"

"Of course not. Just about every state in the country has a statute requiring a lawyer provide competent representation to a client, and that requires the legal knowledge, skill, thoroughness, and preparation reasonably necessary for the representation."

Harm looked at the blank screen as Mac placed the DVD back on the shelf, her words slowly sinking in.

"And then..." Mac continued. "Anyone who spends six years trying to pass the bar isn't going to risk it all by knowingly making a false statement of law or material fact to the tribunal. Getting caught lying about his name and credentials to the judge should have put him on the fast track to being disbarred. No real lawyer would be that stupid."

"No, I guess not," Harm mumbled.

"I mean, the movie is still fun to watch. You just have to ignore the mistakes. A first year law student knows the 'eleventh commandment': never ask a question in court you don't know the answer to. Vinny had no way of knowing if Marissa Tomei would corroborate his theory or not." Mac had sat back down next to Harm. "Do you want me to make some more popcorn and watch another movie or have you had enough?"

Processing everything Mac was saying, Harm hadn't heard her last question.

"Harm?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you want to go to bed or watch another movie?"

"Oh, no. I'm up for another one if you are. Pick something out and this time I'll make the popcorn."

Picking up the empty bowl, Harm repeated in his mind almost everything Mac had said. She'd given him plenty of food for thought.


	4. Chapter 31 thru 40

**Who Am I**

**Chapter 31**

**Monday morning**

**Rabb family office  
**

With Harm's physical therapy almost at an end, it was time for him to face some hard realities. He had remembered next to nothing about the Navy, the law, or what he'd done with his career the last twenty-five years.

Mac's comments Friday night might as well have been directed at him. Staring at one of the many law books that were spread out on his desk, Harm debated whom to call. Bud had retired from the Navy after returning from England; he might be a good source of information. Sturgis on the other hand, was not only a lawyer, but he knew the old Harm from as early as the academy. No, the man to call was obvious. Even with his limited memories, Harm had learned enough about his past to know the only friend he should call under the circumstances would be AJ Chegwidden.

Less than an hour later AJ was standing on Harm's front porch.

"What's on your mind?" AJ asked, taking a seat in the den.

"I can't do it. No matter how hard I try, it can't be done. I can't go back." Harm threw his arms upward in exasperation.

A knot the size of Rhode Island tightened in AJ's gut. Obviously Harm had been stewing over whatever was bothering him long before AJ had arrived.

"I've tried. I really have, but none of it makes any sense to me."

"What do you mean, it doesn't make any sense?" AJ couldn't understand the problem. He'd thought for sure with a little time Harm and Mac would work things out.

"Ignoring the problem that everyone speaks in code, and when you think you've got that down, they come up with more, it's all simply more than I can deal with."

"Code?" If AJ stopped to think about it, Harm was probably right, a decoder would frequently help him communicate with women.

"You know, code: SOP, ASAP, BDU, CNO, Centcom..."

"Wait a minute." AJ held up a hand. "Son, exactly what are we talking about here?" Suddenly AJ had the distinct feeling that he and Harm weren't necessarily discussing the same thing.

"My career."

"Thank God." AJ breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"What?" Now Harm was completely confused.

"Son, if you're talking about the Navy, no one expects you to go back. Having spent three weeks in a coma alone would probably have been enough at this stage to kill your career, but amnesia? I wouldn't expect even you to pull this off."

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, "My final physical is next week. How can I be the man I was if I'm not in the Navy?"

AJ studied the distraught man before him.

"This isn't about the Navy is it?"

"Of course it is! I've been looking through some of the law books in the office trying to find something I remember."

"You don't do trial law anymore."

"I know, but I don't have any books on how to plan a war." The exasperation in his voice came through loud and clear.

"There's more to strategic planning than that, but you're right, books won't be able to replace what you had learned from experience. Now tell me what's really bothering you."

Harm hesitated, taking a momentary interest in his shoes, he quietly mumbled, "She was in love with a sailor."

Nodding his head slowly, now AJ was getting a clearer picture. Harm was still trying to compete with himself.

"No. She was in love with a man who happened to be a sailor."

"Same thing." Harm stood up and walked over to the window.

"No, it's not." AJ rose and moved to stand beside Harm.

"I can't be the man she was in love with. I can't practice law anymore. It would be like My Cousin Vinny all over again, and Top Gun was even more of a wake up call."

"Top Gun?"

"We watched a few movies Friday night. From what everyone tells me, I used to do that. Good God, I can't even begin to imagine what if felt like to be Harmon Rabb the constant hero."

"He didn't feel like a hero. He was a man doing his job."

"And he was damn good at it," Harm scoffed.

"Yes, he was." AJ couldn't argue with that.

"I don't have to remember to recognize what a special woman Mac is. I can see everywhere I look how much in love they... we were. Is it so awful to want that too?"

"No, son, it's not, but you're not looking at the whole picture. She also loved the man who got them chased by poachers because he didn't see a cracked fuel line. A man who got his ass chewed from here to the SecNav's for shooting a weapon into the ceiling. A man who got his most treasured possession stolen because he didn't have enough sense to rent a garage. A man who barely held it together when their friend went into instant labor. A man who defended her for the murder of a husband she'd never mentioned having, and supported her through the emotional rollercoaster. Do I need to go on?"

"No, but even that man is gone."

"Harm, I'm not wishing more poachers or murder accusations to come into your lives, but being you and being there for each other is why you fell in love. Not because you won two DFCs. You may not remember much, but basically, you're the same man in your heart where it counts. Though, I understand you've taken a liking to french fries." AJ scrunched his face in amusement. "It's time to let go of the past and start building a future."

"It's not that easy," Harm turned towards the Admiral.

"I didn't say it was supposed to be easy."

**Rabb home**

**1815 hours**

Mac opened the front door. It had been another grueling day at the office. Though she and Harm had worked in two different areas of the pentagon, she found herself fielding issues and problems that would normally have fallen on his desk. No one actually expected Harm to recover sufficiently to return to his job, but they had enough hope to delay appointing a permanent replacement.

"Mm, is that spinach lasagna I smell?" Mac walked into the kitchen sniffing loudly.

"It was that or chicken putanesca, but we didn't have any olives." Harm was very proud of himself. He'd found an index box of what must have been favorite recipes tucked behind some other miscellaneous items on a shelf in the kitchen, and decided to continue fine-tuning his culinary skills.

"Mm, I think I'm going to learn to like this side of you." Mac flipped through the mail she'd brought in, oblivious to Harm's quizzical stare. "I got an email from Keeter today."

"I thought you said I liked cooking more than you?" Harm hadn't noticed her comment about the email.

"You did, but it's not like either one of us had a lot of time to make anything more than crock pot specials or fast-fix meals. He's coming to town for a few days. Wondered why you hadn't replied to any of his emails." Deciding it was all junk, Mac dropped the stack of mail on the counter and pulled some silverware from the drawer.

"Who's coming?" Harm pulled the lasagna out of the oven.

"Jack Keeter." For just a few short minutes, Mac had forgotten that Harm wouldn't remember him. "You went to the academy and flight school together. You had to rescue him once from Cuba and then we both broke him out of a prison in Iran."

"Iran?"

"Long story." Mac wasn't in the mood to rehash his entire life history with Keeter. She wanted to just pretend that Harm had at least some memory. She'd managed to fool herself more and more into thinking nothing had changed, and she wanted to keep it that way.

**Chapter 32**

Harm recognized the brush off when he heard it. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't so sure he was up to another history lesson anyhow. His head was still reeling from his earlier conversation with AJ. Retiring at 25 years instead of thirty was about to put a huge kink in their income, and Harm had absolutely no idea how much of a financial strain that would put on the family.

More and more, with each passing day he was beginning to realize just how much of the responsibility for their lives was on Mac's shoulders. Somehow cooking supper seemed to be a small compensation.

"I'll get the kids." Harm went out to the hallway and called upstairs. On his way back into the kitchen he asked, "When is Keifer coming?"

"KEETER, Jack Keeter. This weekend. He and his wife will be staying with us. I thought it might be nice to invite Sturgis and Varese. Like a reunion of sorts."

"And take the pressure off of me?" Harm carried the lasagna over to the table, then popped his head into the hall and called the kids again. "After all," he continued rather coldly, "If Sturgis and Keeter are chewing the fat, it won't matter that I don't remember the guy's name."

Mac's insides cringed at Harm's tone of voice. It had been a while since he'd blown a fuse over his lack of memories. Apparently, no matter how hard she tried to pretend, reality was bound and determined to rear its ugly head and slap her in the face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I just thought it might be nice..."

Just then Trisha came into the room with Tommy bouncing behind a close second. One thing Harm had become incredibly good at was putting on a happy face for the children. "For a minute I thought I was going to have to eat all this myself," Harm smiled broadly.

"You did not!" Tommy called his bluff.

And just like that, Mac sat down at the table, once again indulging in the fantasy that all was well with the Rabb family.

By the time dinner was over, homework was done, video games had been played, and the kids had been put to bed, Harm and Mac were ready to collapse themselves.

Harm watched from bed as Mac puttered around the room, putting away a few straggling items from the chair, readying her uniform for the next day, and explaining about Keeter's visit. He was practically mesmerized when she strolled towards the bed rubbing lotion on her bare arms. He'd watch her do that every night since he'd come home, and every night it was becoming harder and harder, literally, to ignore.

"I...uh, need to discuss something with you," Harm started.

"Yeah?" Mac pulled back the covers.

"AJ came by today and we went over a few things."

"Like?" Mac asked hesitantly.

"It's time I, we, accept the fact that my memory is not coming back. I can't stay in the Navy. I'm going to put in for my retirement."

"I see," Mac replied softly, still kneading the lotion into her fingers, more out of nerves than necessity.

"We need to sit down and discuss finances. You've been carrying too much of the load since I've been home. It's time I started sharing more of the burdens."

"Well, I can go over all the bills any time you want, but I wouldn't exactly call it a burden."

"Why not?"

"We lived on one income for four years while we were in London. Remember, I had resigned my commission?"

"I vaguely remember your explaining that." Harm still didn't have a complete handle on the resign, reserves, active reserves, recalling, but he basically understood that for five years after you say goodbye, Uncle Sam can still call you back, and he did just that with Mac. Fortunately, they'd already moved back to the States and the kids were both in school full time.

"Having two salaries since last year has been gravy. You paid your apartment off years ago, so we made good money renting it while we were in England. Most of the extra money was invested and used with the income from the sale of the apartment to buy this house. Our mortgage is unusually small and actually covered by one housing allowance. We've been putting away most of my salary for emergencies. Frank and Trish set up college funds for the kids the day they were born, so we've never had to worry about that. Living on one salary and your retirement shouldn't be too hard, but it could get tight if you want to keep Sarah."

"Sarah?"

Mac looked at Harm open eyed. Could she really have gone all this time without ever mentioning Sarah? Thinking quickly, they'd been out of the country since he'd been sent to Hawaii in 2002, so there weren't many photos taken between the wedding and moving. There was that one photo on the mantel of the kids in the plane, but Mac had only pointed out the children. Good heavens! She hadn't told him the plane was his.

"It's your Stearman, a WWII biplane you restored. You named it after your grandmother."

"I own an airplane?"

"Well, planes are sort of a tradition in your family."

"Yeah, I know. My grandfather and father were both navy pilots."

"Your dad wanted to restore the old girl in memory of his father, and instead..."

"I restored it in memory of him."

"Pretty much. It was therapy for you after your ramp strike. Helped you forget the pain and feel closer to your dad at the same time."

Harm ran his fingers through his hair. When were the surprises going to end? Every time he thought he was finally fitting in, some new reality presented itself. Today he'd gotten two for one – a new old best friend and an airplane he had no idea what to do with.

"You know, Jack would be the perfect person to take you out and show you Sarah." Mac could tell Harm was having a bad day and hoped maybe she could put a positive spin on it all.

"And why would that be?"

"Jack's the only other person you trust to fly Sarah. While we were in Hawaii and England, Jack would check on the plane whenever he could and try to take her for a spin."

Harm stared at Mac numbly, finally forming a coherent thought. "When was the last time 'I' flew her?"

"Over a year ago. You took her out when we first came home. You haven't had much time for her since."

Harm rubbed his hand over his face again. "You never did say how you answered him."

"Answered him?"

"You said he was wondering why I hadn't responded to his emails."

"Oh. I told him the truth. Well, most of it anyhow. That you'd been in an accident, in a coma, and hadn't been back to the office yet."

"Did you say anything about my memory?"

"Some." Mac hadn't wanted to go over everything in an email. She was hoping to have some free time before Friday to call and speak with Jack.

"Some?"

"I did mention you were having a little trouble remembering a few things."

"A few?" Harm was starting to get a little annoyed with Mac's beating around the bush. What was he supposed to do when this long lost friend comes strolling in the door and discovers his old pal has no idea who he is?

"I didn't want to say too much in an email. I thought we'd get a chance to speak before he arrives. He did say something about not mentioning Maria Elena Carmelita something or other to his wife."

"Ha! Like I'm going to have any idea who the hell that is!" Harm almost found the warning amusing.

Mac was beginning to lose patience. Harm had been bordering on a foul mood all night. "If you want I can call him back and tell him that now wouldn't be a very good time to visit."

"No, you don't have to do that. I think I just need some sleep. I suppose if this 'Jack' wants to take me to see a plane that will be fine," Harm sighed heavily. Now he had to decide what to do with a plane he didn't want. He wondered briefly if anyone else in the family had some attachment to it. Maybe Jack would buy it? Crawling down into the bed and punching the pillow, Harm threw a caustic 'good night' over his shoulder.

"Night," Mac replied softly. Maybe this weekend wouldn't be all bad. Then again, who was she kidding? If Harm stayed in this mood, come Friday they'd be living in the weekend from hell.

**Chapter 33 **

**Friday Night**

**Rabb home**

Mac had managed to secure early to be with Harm when Keeter and his wife arrived. From the moment she walked in the door she could feel the tentacles of tension reach out and grab her in a stranglehold. It was going to be a long night.

"Mom!" Trisha called from the den. "I didn't know you were coming home early?"

"Well, I thought it would be nice to be here when Uncle Jack and Aunt Liz get here." Kissing her daughter hello and scratching the dog behind the ear, Mac went in search of Harm and Tommy.

Noticing Tommy and his friend Danny playing in the backyard, she wasn't surprised to find Harm buried under papers at his desk. The scene reminded her of when they used to work together at HQ. Sometimes she so missed having him as her partner, but the fringe benefits were much better having him as a lifetime partner. At least they had been. She just needed to be patient, she'd have him back again. He might not be in the Navy anymore, but every day she could see her Harm breaking out and taking hold of his life.

"How long have you been standing there?" Harm glanced up, a hint of a smile on his lips. No matter how frustrating his day had been going over their financial records, seeing Mac come home always made him feel like smiling. He couldn't help but wonder what she felt when she saw him.

"Not very. Making any sense out of all that?"

"Yeah, I'm starting to." Much to Harm's surprise, he easily understood everything in front of him, including all the documents written in legalese. If someone had asked him to define any one term, he would have stumbled, and yet reading over the storage contracts, they were all perfectly clear. He just didn't understand how his mind worked. Why were some things so natural and other things so damn difficult?

"I'm going to go change, Keeter and Liz should be here any minute." Mac's back was already turned and halfway out the door when she heard Harm's next line.

"Need any help?" Harm raised a suggestive brow grinning impishly before the shock of what he had said hit him. "I'm sorry. That just...slipped out." He had no idea where that had come from. He had fees, and terms, and repairs running through his mind when his mouth opened and spoke of its own accord.

Knowing Harm couldn't see the blush in her cheek or the huge grin spreading across her face, Mac shot over her shoulder. "Maybe next time."

Harm wasn't sure what had surprised him more, his words or her response. Either way, he had a warm feeling flooding his system and he liked it.

One hour later the kids and dog were running to answer the doorbell. It amazed Mac how there were some people kids absolutely loved, no matter how little they saw them. Jack Keeter was one of those people. Tommy couldn't possibly remember him from his and Liz's last visit to London, and all Trisha needed to remember is that every time Jack visits, a present involved. When she was two, he was a big hit with the toy umbrella. At five, Cinderella Barbie won her over, and at seven, the statue of liberty costume was a tremendous success.

By the time Harm and Mac made it to the door, the kids were all over Keeter like bees on honey. They were laughing and rough housing, and poor Liz was simply standing off to one side silently watching.

"Hey, Buddy!" Keeter reached over the children pulling his old friend into a warm bear hug.

"Jack," Harm smiled warmly. Much to his surprise, although Harm still had no idea who Jack was, the friendship felt right. Maybe he was just more comfortable in his own skin, but he was suddenly glad Keeter was here.

"Okay, guys. Give Uncle Jack a little room." Mac gently nudged the kids towards the den.

"Did you bring us any presents?" Tommy asked eagerly, not having given anyone a chance to move.

"I don't know." Jack turned to Harm. "Have they been good sailors?"

Harm nodded yes.

"Haven't been giving the old man a hard time?"

Harm smiled a little and shook his head.

"Not making extra work for your mom, keeping your rooms clean?" This time Keeter looked at each of the children, waiting to see how they responded.

Harm was holding back a chuckle. Keeter may have come bearing gifts, but he was putting the kids through their paces first.

With an affirmative response from all four Rabbs, Keeter grinned. "Then you'd better go get them. They're on the porch with the luggage. Blue package is for Tommy, red is for Trisha."

"I'll put the bags in your room," Harm offered, following his kids out the door.

"Thanks, buddy." Keeter smiled, ready to relax after the long drive.

"At least now you can come in and sit down." Mac reached for Liz's coat, immediately noticing her blossoming state. "Well, congratulations! How come you didn't tell us?"

"Tell us what?" Harm asked coming back in the door with two small bags and two eager children racing past him to the den.

"Liz is pregnant," Mac beamed.

"We wanted to surprise you," Jack explained.

"Five months," Liz added.

"That's wonderful news." Even though Harm didn't know them very well, he was truly happy for them. "Let me just drop these in the other room."

"Don't bother. Come and join us, I'll take them in when we hit the racks later."

"Nonsense. It'll just take me a minute." Harm didn't even wait to argue.

In no time at all, the gifts were unwrapped, thank yous prevailed, and the Rabb children were off to their respective rooms to indulge in their new windfall.

"Can I get you anything?" Mac directed at Liz.

"Just let me put my feet up, please."

"Sure thing!" Harm turned and pulled a small ottoman over to the sofa where Liz had sat down then took a seat across from her.

"This is a pleasant surprise," Mac grinned.

"It only took me two years to convince this oaf that over forty wasn't too old to be a father."

"Harm was 41 when Tommy was born," Mac shrugged.

"Forty-one, not forty-seven," Jack interjected.

"Yeah well, if you hadn't been so stubborn about it, you'd have been only forty-five." Liz was just happy she'd talked him into it at all. By the time she had turned 35 she had honestly come to terms with the fact that the opportunity to have children had passed her by. When she'd married Jack two years ago at 37, she'd been a little surprised to discover how much having children had really meant to her.

"We're not that old," Harm huffed.

"You can say that. You'll only be in your fifties when your kids graduate high school. I'll be pushing the old age home."

"HA!" Mac laughed out loud. "Keeter, the only thing you'll be pushing in your old age is the speed limit."

Everyone laughed along with Mac, even Harm, and he had no reason to understand why that dig was so true.

Mac noticed Liz shifting her weight then grab and place Jack's hand on her side. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Junior here thinks that when mom stops moving that means it's time to play. My hand he kicks. Jack's hand seems to settle him down."

"Boy, do I remember those days. Tommy used to always get his foot caught under my ribcage. I'd scare the heck out of people pushing and shoving, trying to move his foot. I was so used to it, I didn't realize I was doing it and everyone else in the room would slowly start panicking." Mac laughed at the memory. Harm watched her talking of carrying Tommy inside her with a heavy ache in his heart that grew with every word Mac spoke.

"Do you mind?" Mac asked.

"Oh, no. That's the number one rule of being pregnant, your tummy becomes public domain," Liz chuckled. "Ooh, there he goes again."

"Do you know it's a he?" Mac asked, carefully placing her hand on the spot Liz had pointed to.

"Yeah. I figure he's going to be a kicker for his high school football team," she teased.

"Wow. He is strong. He'll probably win the Heismann," Mac teased with her. Casually she looked across the room and noticed Harm's odd expression. "Do you want to feel?" she directed at him

"Me? Uh, no." In truth Harm was dying to participate, but somehow fear overrode his curiosity.

"Oh, come on and join the party," Liz added, recognizing the look on his face. Her kid brother had the exact same expression the first time he'd felt her stomach. Even though Harm had two kids, he had that same neophyte look on his face.

Slowly, Harm stood up and moved across the small space.

"You'd better move faster than that," Mac encouraged. "Babies have a way of not cooperating for long."

"Ain't that the truth," Liz laughed.

Timidly, Harm stretched his hand forth, startled when Liz grabbed it and placed it firmly on the side of her stomach. After only a few seconds, the active little tike took a punch square in the center of Harm's flat palm.

"Wow!" His eyes opened wide, everyone in the room chuckling.

"It is something the first time you feel your kid kick," Jack grinned proudly.

Mac looked up sadly at Harm. She could see the pain in his eyes. He wouldn't know what that felt like. All of those first time experiences were stolen from him.

Harm glanced quickly at Mac. He could see the sympathy in her eyes; she understood. Suddenly all those fatherly firsts that he would never experience first hand flashed through his mind; the first kick in the womb, the first time they said dada, the first steps, first day of school, learning to ride a bike. All of it was gone. Damn!

**Chapter 34**

"Are you really going to give up flying?" Sturgis was amazed.

"Yeah, with the baby coming it's time to give up testing new planes," Keeter shrugged.

"Whatever you do, don't start telling me about the ones you shouldn't have walked away from." Just thinking about how many close calls her husband had had through the years was enough to turn Liz's stomach.

"I won't. Besides, it was no fun any more once I didn't have Mac to get stranded in the desert with. Right, baby?" Jack clicked his cheek, making that annoying sound that most women abhorred.

"Oh, yeah, the time of our lives!" Mac shook her head and grabbed a few empty glasses. "Anyone ready for a refill?"

"Don't change the subject," Jack winked at Mac. Just one story wouldn't kill the night. Directing his question to Sturgis and Varese, "Did they ever tell you about the time I made an emergency landing in the Iranian desert and Mac was traded to the Bedouins to get back the stealth bomber?"

"No." Sturgis enunciated clearly. "Is this true, Mac? Did the nomads really think you were more valuable than a eighty million dollar plane?"

"You know, Sturgis, I'm sure there was complement in there somewhere. And that's not exactly what happened, I was collateral."

"Whose bright idea was that?" Harm asked, unexpectedly interested in hearing the rest of this story. When Mac had filled him in on their history with Keeter, she'd conveniently omitted the Iran rescue.

"Hers." "Mine."

All heads in the room turned to Mac.

"You wanted to stay with the Bedouins?" Sturgis couldn't resist asking.

"No, I wanted Harm and that plane out of the desert before the Iranian military caught up with us." Mac really wished Keeter had kept his mouth shut.

"ME! I let you stay with them? Had I been hit on the head or something?" Harm was flabbergasted. Everything he'd heard about him and Mac protecting each other told him there was no way Harmon Rabb Jr. would have left the woman he loved in the hands of a nomadic tribe of patriarchs.

Mac couldn't help but burst out laughing. "No, you hadn't hit your head, but you did have the same look on your face then that you have now."

"Mac?"

"Oh for heaven's sake Harm. It wasn't about sex. It was business. Hell, the sheik himself even told me he needed another wife like his camel needed pants."

Keeter spit his drink out laughing. "You never told me he said that. What an idiot."

"JACK!" Harm turned quickly in Keeter's direction. "That's my wife you're talking about."

"Maybe now, but then she was free and available."

Harm's eyes grew even wider at what his friend had just said.

"Alright, put your eyes back in their sockets! Gees. Nothing happened. I stayed behind to make sure the Bedouins got their money, and that Mac and I met up with the cavalry. She wouldn't even let me share her tent...for her own protection," he directed at his wife quickly before continuing. "There was no way that sheik was going to get within 10 yards of her. Besides, you know damn well I would have killed anyone who tried."

Looking into Keeter's eyes, Harm recognized the truth of his suddenly serious words. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Good. Now that we've settled that, who needs a refill?" Mac asked, plastering a relieved smile on her face, deciding now was not the time to remind anyone she was a Marine and hadn't needed protecting.

"I'll have another coke, please?" Liz handed Mac her nearly empty glass while everyone continued chatting around them.

"You'll still keep your civilian license, won't you?" Sturgis questioned.

"You bet. Especially if old Harm here lets me keep using Sarah." Slapping Harm on the back, he turned to face him. " I was hoping you'd let me take her up this weekend. Who knows when I'll be back around this neck of the woods again."

"Now? Don't you think it's a little cold to be flying in an open cockpit?" Liz looked totally aghast as she reached for the drink Mac had just brought her.

"There's no such thing as too cold for an old jet-jock, darling. Right, Harm?"

"Don't look at me," Harm shrugged.

"Now that you've brought it up. Harm hasn't been up in Sarah since last year. Think you two might want to spend a little time with the other woman?" Mac was pleased Keeter was the one to bring up the subject of Sarah.

Keeter looked over at Liz, a silent plea in his eyes.

"Why are you looking at me? It's not my plane, but don't blame me if you both come home with frost bite." Liz took a sip of her drink, served her right for marrying a nut. What was it her brother used to say: 'the only thing that separates the men from the boys is the price of their toys.' If she were a betting woman, she'd wager that toy plane of Harm's had one heck of a price tag on it.

**0100**

**Rabb front porch**

"I thought I heard someone rustling about down here." Keeter handed Harm a cigar.

"No thanks." Harm shook his head without hesitation.

"Well, I guess that's one habit Mac's glad you don't remember."

"I used to smoke cigars?" Harm seemed amused at the idea.

"Now and then. You quit for a few years, then one day you just took it up again."

"I wonder why?"

"Don't really know." Keeter hesitated a moment, wondering where to begin. "So tell me, buddy, how are you really doing?"

"I'm getting there." Harm handed Keeter his typically pat answer.

"Harm, this is Jack. Don't bullshit me."

Harm stared at the man in front of him. He was an academy graduate like Sturgis, and yet there was no stiffness to indicate he had ever had anything to do with the military. Was this what only being a fighter jock was about? Was this what part of him used to be like? Whatever the answers, Harm felt he could tell this man the truth.

"It's hard. Some days I think I can't stand it anymore. On other days I almost forget something's wrong, but usually there's some surprise waiting around the corner to kick me in the teeth and remind me all is not what it should be."

"Mac tells me you put in your papers." Keeter was worried about Harm leaving the Navy, it somehow seemed wrong. Harm was at least a thirty-year man and it wouldn't have surprised anyone if he made flag and stayed in even longer.

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I don't remember the Navy. I don't remember visiting my dad on the Ticonderoga, even though the photo sits on my desk staring at me every day. I don't remember going to the academy, flight school, or serving my country." Harm's tone was one of resignation more than his usual frustration.

"You really forgot all about Maria Elena?" Keeter shook his head. "It was our segundo cruise in Barcelona. She had these two aunts we kept trying to ditch..." Keeter noticed Harm listening politely, but not really interested. "And you don't really care do you?"

"Jack, I can't even remember Mac. Are you telling me I would rather have remembered our 'segundo' cruise?" Harm looked at Keeter pointedly.

"No, man. I'm not. We had some good times, plenty of really good times." Keeter couldn't help chuckling a little despite the seriousness of the situation. "But nothing could compete with what you and Mac found."

Keeter watched Harm staring off into the sky. "There's nothing like flying. You lived for it."

"That's what they keep telling me." Harm turned to look back at his old friend.

"It just amazes me you can't remember anything, even me. Hell, if Mac hadn't told me, I'd have never known in there tonight. You just rolled with the punches, the same way you always have."

"I noticed with the exception of Iran, you didn't bring up our past." Harm raised a brow at him. "You going to tell me when you and I get together we don't usually reminisce?"

"Man, we've lived our lives over a gazillion times in living rooms around the world, but tonight wasn't the night."

"Thanks."

"No problem, buddy. I wish I had some magic words to make this whole thing easier for you, but I don't. What I do have is my friendship. It's always yours, no matter what you do or don't remember. Hell, I'm probably better off having you forget most of it," Jack tried to tease.

Harm smiled partly at the jest, then turned deadly serious. "I want her back, Jack."

"You've never lost her." Jack didn't skip a beat. He had a feeling from listening to what Mac wasn't saying that something was up. Now, he saw it all very clearly.

"More like I never had her. I want her to love me for me, the way she loved him." Harm didn't know how to explain it. Sometimes this whole mess made him feel schizophrenic.

"You know, this reminds me an awful lot of a conversation we had after the op in Iran. I knew then she had a thing for you, and had it bad. I saw the way you looked at her when you got in that plane, and the look on your face when she walked back into your life. The only person who wouldn't accept how you and she felt was you. Sounds to me like you're doing that to yourself again." Keeter got up and headed back in the house, the late night air starting to chill his bones. "Don't make the same mistake twice."

**Chapter 35**

**Rabb house**

**Early next morning  
**

Placing her finger against her lips, "Shh, we don't want to wake the kids or the guys will never get out of here," Mac chuckled. This visit had been wonderful for everyone. Harm even seemed enthused about going flying.

"Sorry, but I'm not sure I trust these two alone in public," Liz giggled more quietly.

"I hadn't thought about that," Mac laughed back. "Think they need a chaperone?"

"Very funny," Jack sneered lovingly at his wife.

"Just don't you two go off and get drunk and forget where you live," Liz teased as Jack pulled her into a warm embrace.

"Not a chance," he whispered. Ignoring there were other people in the room, Jack kissed his wife with all the intensity of a man whose only travel plans were to find the nearest bedroom.

Immediately realizing this was more than a quick peck, Mac stiffened awkwardly and walked towards Harm and the doorway. "Uh... make sure you're both careful," she told Harm, leading him out to the hall.

"Yeah." Harm turned and followed Mac. "I uh..." Peeking over his shoulder he saw Keeter was still kissing Liz. "How long have they been married?" he asked out of the side of his mouth.

"Little over two years I think." Mac turned and took a step closer to the kitchen to better see what Harm had seen. Wow, they were really at it.

"Two years? Whew, do you think they always say goodbye like that?" Harm hadn't expected such an 'extensive' goodbye.

"We used to... I mean... sometimes...when…uh... I don't know if they always say goodbye like that." Mac was starting to feel increasingly self-conscious. She remembered the days when Harm would kiss her like that, as though it would be his last chance.

"Mac?" Harm walked up behind her and almost timidly placed his hand on the sides of her arms.

"Yeah?" she tried not to flinch at the feel of his touch, but didn't know where to look. She didn't want to spy on the hottest kiss she'd ever seen between married people, but she didn't want to face Harm. She felt like an insecure teenager after what she'd just said, or almost said to him.

"Did I ever call you Sarah?"

Mac's head snapped around at the question.

"Sometimes," she answered softly.

"Can I call you that now?" His voice was low and quiet.

"If you'd like." She turned around to face him fully.

"Sarah, would you mind if I kissed you goodbye? I mean not like...but...I'd really like to." Harm could feel his heart pounding through his chest.

"That would be nice," Mac somehow managed to force her voice to respond as Harm pressed himself closer to her.

Without another word, he wrapped his arms around Mac and let his lips slowly descend on hers. In a flash he felt all the emotions he'd kept tightly wound inside of him quickly begin to unravel. When Mac snaked her arms around his waist, he knew he wanted this woman more than he'd ever wanted anything. Memory or no memory, his attraction for her was more than male hormones. He could feel her calling to his very soul. Jack was at least right about one thing: this Harm was in love with his wife.

In the kitchen, Keeter was still pressing his wife as tightly against him as possible considering her enhanced figure.

"Do you think it's working? My back is starting to twinge," Liz whispered quietly, her face pressed against her husband's.

"I don't hear them talking anymore. Do you?" Keeter whispered back just as quietly.

"Shall we peek? Or do you think they need more time?" Liz's lips teased against her husband's as she spoke.

"Let's turn a little. Move to my right and see if you can see anything."

"Can't we shift to my right? I'm already twisted uncomfortably here. I'm not built for making out this long anymore." Liz had to bite her lower lip not to break out in a fit of giggles.

"Okay, you're right." Still holding his wife tightly against him, their faces smooshed together as one, he carefully turned in minute baby steps, trying to get a look out into the hall.

"I'll be damned," Liz whispered, pulling back from her husband's embrace. "You were right. How did you...?"

"I don't care what he doesn't remember. That man is still the same guy I used to bunk with. It's Lisa Delvechio all over again!" Keeter replied enthusiastically.

"Lisa Delvechio?"

"Phil Delvechio's sister. She had such a crush on Harm, and he thought she was pretty hot too. Anyhow, Phil got Harm to invite her to the winter ball. He was such a gentleman he wouldn't make a move on her, especially being Phil's sister and all. Poor kid thought Harm didn't like her. Anyway, after breakfast we all went back to Phil's house. His folks lived in Annapolis, but were out of town for some reason. With all the guys and their dates making out around the house, Harm finally ran out of gentlemanly restraint. They wound up dating for six months."

"Ah... So, now what do we do?" she grinned.

"Want to make out some more?" he answered in his best Cary Grant voice.

This time Liz giggled out loud, breaking the spell the couple in the hallway had fallen under. A little embarrassed at letting the kiss get away from him, Harm stepped back slowly. "We won't be home late." Leaning forward again, he gave Mac a sweet, quick kiss on the lips and called to Keeter. "Meet you out front."

**Airport Hanger**

**Leesburg VA**

Keeter walked Harm through the pre-flight check, surprised when Harm asked where the fuel line was. Pointing it out, he watched Harm examine it with unusual thoroughness. When Harm caught Keeter looking at him curiously, all he said was, "Long story."

Harm had no idea what Keeter was doing and yet, it all seemed so familiar. Like a name on the tip of your tongue but you can't quite remember it. He climbed into the plane, strapped himself in, and waited for the anticipated apprehension of taking off, but it never came. In only a few minutes, he found himself grinning like a Cheshire cat. The feel of the wind and the sound of the engine were as comforting to him as an old blanket.

About a half an hour into the flight, Keeter began spinning and looping. He could hear Harm laughing through the communication system. He knew the love of flying had to be inside him somewhere. He wouldn't be at all surprised if all he needed was to be on a carrier deck or in a courtroom, but it was unlikely the Navy would let him do either.

"You ready?" Keeter asked.

"For what?" Harm's face was bright with laughter.

"Take over."

"FLYING?" Harm's brows were up and his mouth open in a nano-second.

"Yup. She's all yours. Grab the stick." Without any further instruction, Jack released the stick and knit his fingers behind his head as though he were in a hammock on a lazy Sunday afternoon in Puerto Vallarta.

"JACK!" Harm grabbed the control and instinctively pulled it ever so slightly towards him. The fear of the moment washed away as it slowly sank in, he knew what to do.

Jack relaxed in the front seat. He knew it. Harm was turning and looping and laughing his heart out. A good old-fashioned belly laugh, the kind that was good for the heart and soul.

An hour later they landed the plane, Harm still at the controls.

"How did you know?" Harm slapped Keeter on the back.

"Know what?"

"That I'd remember?" Harm stopped and turned Keeter to face him.

"Anyone can be taught how to fly a plane. You can't teach someone the touch. Either you have it or you don't. The DFC you got for pushing that pilot home by his tailhook, you didn't learn that at flight school. Hell, I'm good and I'm not sure I could have pulled that off. That was deep down inside you. You, my good friend, were born to fly and no loss of memory will take that away from you."

Harm paused a moment before breaking out into laughter. Life with this guy must have really been something.

Looking over his shoulder, Keeter yelled back, "You better get a move on it. I hear a beer bottle calling my name!"

**Chapter 36 **

"So, now what do I do?" Harm asked, pulling the car out of the airport parking lot.

"About what?"

"My life," Harm sighed.

"Easy. Go home, send the kids to a neighbor and make love to your wife all night. All day tomorrow too wouldn't be a bad idea."

"Keeter." Harm rolled his eyes. Why did Harm have the feeling this wasn't the first time he'd had to call Keeter on an inappropriate response.

"Harm, she IS your wife. You have TWO children. You're not THAT old. Besides, I saw how you kissed each other this morning."

"She did kiss me back, didn't she?" A quick smile matched the twinkle in Harm's eyes.

"You have to ask? Come on, Harm." Keeter was about to lose patience with this guy.

"Look, there's more to life than dress whites and gold wings and taking a woman to bed. I've turned in my papers. It won't be long now before I'm unemployed, and that mistress back there you so aptly reintroduced me to doesn't come cheap."

"I'll give you that much," Jack nodded.

"So what the hell am I going to do? I can't sit home cooking and doing laundry for the next twenty years or so."

"There must be something. You're a smart guy. Maybe there's some other side of law that you could get good at. You know, some kind of brush up course in how to screw the corporate bad guys. Maybe find something to do with flying. Open a skywriting business or something."

"Jack..."

"Okay, nix the sky writing. Have you talked to Frank?"

"No." Harm hadn't thought of that.

"He's been retired for years, but he must still have connections, or at least a few good ideas," Jack suggested.

"He and Mom are coming to DC for Christmas. I've waited this long, I think I can wait till then to talk to him, check out my options in the meantime."

Keeter laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?"

"Who would ever have thought I'd be giving you good advice," Jack laughed some more.

Harm laughed loudly with his old friend. After less than twenty-four hours he already had a feel for why that was such an amusing thought.

Saturday had been a long day. Harm's bond with his old friend was still just as strong without the memories. They had all stayed up that night later than they'd meant to laughing and telling stories, by the time Harm had come out of the bathroom, Mac was sound asleep. He watched her sleeping for the longest time. Maybe Jack was right, maybe he and the old Harmon Rabb weren't so different. Maybe he was demanding too much of her. If the bond between him and Jack was so strong without the memories, why was Harm fighting the bond between him and Mac? Why was he making things so complicated? Despite the lack of history, he was happy where he was. He loved the kids and he loved Mac. What was his problem? Shaking his head, he finally rolled over and forced himself to get some sleep.

Sunday flew by and everyone promised not to let so much time pass before their next visit. By Monday life was back to normal, with one minor exception, Harm had decided it was time he stopped treating Mac like a polite acquaintance.

Slowly, he tried being more affectionate; a kiss on the cheek whenever one of them came home, or went out, an occasional hand across the small of her back. A few times he even reached out to hold her hand, once while walking into the grocery store and another time on their way to a PTA meeting. After only a couple of weeks, Harm felt they were truly comfortable with each other. He was amazed at how easily he fell into the role of loving husband. All he needed now was the right time to show her how much his love for her had grown. It had been months since his accident. He was torn between feeling he'd let too much time pass without showing her his physical interest in her, and yet at the same time he felt it hadn't been long enough, she needed and deserved more time to adapt and grow into the new them. He just needed to be patient, he kept reminding himself.

**Rabb House**

**Saturday morning  
**

Life had been relatively smooth sailing since Keeter's visit. Even the surprises that at one time would feel like a slap in the face didn't seem to affect Harm the way they once would have. During one of his mother's frequent calls to check on him, Harm went ahead and spoke to Frank about his career options. Frank told him he might have a few ideas, and that he'd get back to Harm when he had more concrete information.

Harm hurried up the basement stairs, trying to reach the phone before it stopped ringing.

"Rabb residence. Oh, hi, honey." Harm looked down at his watch.

"Hey, Dad. Where's Mom? I thought she was picking me up."

"She is. She and Tommy were going to get you on their way back from Target. I'm sure she'll be there any minute."

Harm hit the flash button and dialed Mac's cell. He was getting tired of her cell phone connection being at the will of whatever tower she was or wasn't driving past. The next thing on his list of things to deal with was going to be finding a new cellular phone service.

He hadn't gotten three feet away from the phone when it rang again.

"Rabb residence."

"Harmon Rabb?"

"Yes."

"This is Fairfax Hospital. You're listed as the emergency contact for Sarah Rabb."

"That's my wife," Harm swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry, sir. She and a little boy were just brought in, a car accident. If you could please..." Elizabeth Stanton heard the click before she could finish her sentence. It wasn't unusual. She'd learned a long time ago not to take it personally.

Harm was moving on autopilot. Not waiting to hear whatever else the woman from the hospital had to say, he'd grabbed his keys and was out the door, driving down the street long before the woman probably even realized he'd hung up.

He was literally numb from head to toe. What was he going to do if anything happened to Mac? There was no way he could do what she had done, be so strong. As he turned the corner near the hospital an icy chill ran up his spine. He couldn't begin to imagine life without her.

Leaving the car parked outside the door, Harm ran up to the desk. "I got a call. My wife, Sarah Rabb and ... my son…"

Hitting a few letters on the keyboard, "Yes, Mr. Rabb. Your wife is in trauma room three. If you'll just go through those double doors to your left, she'll be the third cubicle on your right."

Harm wasn't even sure if he'd said thank you, he only knew he had to see Mac. Pushing the door a little more forcefully than was probably necessary, he scanned the numbers at the top of each cubby, counting the blue curtains. When he arrived at number three he practically flew past the closed curtains, coming up short at the sight of Mac glaring furiously at a rather oblivious man in a white coat scribbling on a clipboard while he spoke.

"Mac?" He slowly processed the information in front of him. She was alive. She was okay. Forgetting all about the doctor writing furiously, Harm stormed past the man, almost knocking him over as he reached for his now crying wife.

"Oh, Harm." Mac draped her arms tightly around her husband, resting her head against his chest. "They won't tell me about Tommy. I told that paramedic I didn't need to see a doctor, I was okay, but Tommy was still unconscious when they brought us in and now they won't tell me how he is!" Mac couldn't help herself. The sight of her husband was like breaking a damn. All the fear and anger came bursting through in a flood of tears.

"How is our son?" Harm asked the doctor rather forcefully.

"Sir, as I've been trying to explain to your wife, I was sent to check on her. Your son is being taken care of by another physician. I'm sure someone will be here any minute to inform you of his condition." This was the part of emergency medicine that Eddie Philips hated. He was especially thankful the husband had arrived when he had. He didn't think he was going to be able to keep this mother pinned down much longer. Parents were always overwrought, but it was especially worse when they had good reason.

Kissing the top of his wife's head, Harm gently soothed her back, trying to do his best to calm Mac down despite his own agitated state. He was about to pelt the doctor with a slew of questions that would have made any litigator proud when the approaching sound of a screaming child could be heard.

Instantly, Mac's head lifted. "Harm, that's Tommy!"

**Chapter 37**

"I want my mommy!" The terrified child cried, tears streaming down his face.

The staff tried to reassure him. "Your mom will be here shortly. As soon as the doctor is done with her they'll send her up to x-ray." A sweet aide tried to calm him.

When Tommy saw Harm's head pop out from behind a passing curtain, he practically jumped off the gurney. "Daddy! They won't let me see Mommy!"

Harm pushed the curtain open at the same time he reached for his son with his other hand. The same sweet aid put out her hand to stop him. "He's on his way to x-ray. We really don't want him moving around."

"I'll go with him." Harm glanced quickly at Mac who nodded her head.

"Are you finished?" Mac spat at the overworked doctor.

"Yes, Mrs. Rabb. I am finished. If you will wait here while I sign your release, the nurse will come and tell you when you can join your husband and son upstairs." As exhausting as a battling anxious mother was, he was delighted that all seemed well with their boy.

No sooner had the doctor walked away from Mac than a flurry of activity erupted. Nurses and police were flying past with an equipment-laden gurney. Flashes of the night of Harm's accident sent cold chills through her body. She could only imagine this to have been the scene prior to her arrival that night. She could hear the rapidly paced voice of someone spitting out information: Female, approximately forty-five, head on collision, no airbag, head trauma, punctured lung, unconscious at scene. The voice slowly disappeared as they moved behind closed doors, but the hum of activity hadn't slowed as another gurney came racing in behind the previous one.

Harm had called Trisha from upstairs while Tommy was being x-rayed to tell her what had happened. He was now following Tommy back into the emergency room when he noticed Mac lying back quietly in the same spot he'd left her.

"I'm going to check on Mommy and I'll catch up to you in a minute." Harm could see Tommy's lower lip start to quiver. "I promise." He squeezed his son's cold hand.

Nodding his head, the little boy kept his eyes focused on his parents until he disappeared into the glass-enclosed room.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine. I've been waiting for the doctor's release, but a car accident came in and it seems to have taken up everyone's time."

"You don't look fine. Is something hurting?" Harm gently brushed his hands along his wife's arm, checking for any painful spots.

"It just reminded me of that night. I'll be okay." Mac took in a deep labored breath.

"God, Mac. I'm so sorry." Harm drew her into his arms again. "I only had a small taste of what you must have gone through and it scared the hell out of me." Placing a quick kiss on the top of her head, he blinked his eyes tightly. "Tommy is waiting for me, but when we get home, you and I are going to have a long talk. Okay?"

Mac nodded her head. All she really wanted at the moment was to hold her family safely in her arms. As long as she could do that, Harm could talk all he wanted. Looking around as Harm pulled back, she hopped off the bed. "I'm coming with you. I can wait with you and Tommy just as easily as I can wait here."

The door to Tommy's cubicle was barely open when Mac rushed through to hold her baby.

"Be careful with his arm. Doc thinks it's broken," Harm called, watching Mac smother her boy with kisses.

"Make that he HAS a broken arm, dislocated shoulder too, no internal bleeding, and a minor concussion. You lucked out on this one."

Harm and Mac looked up at the crusty doctor. "It could always have been worse," Harm agreed.

"The next lady wasn't so lucky," the doctor started.

Mac looked down at Tommy, running her hand through his hair before looking back up at the doctor.

"Thought you might like to know the police have the guy who ran you off the road in custody. He plowed into another car at the next intersection."

"Drunk driver?" Harm asked.

"At two o'clock in the afternoon." Disgust rolled off the doctor's tongue. No matter how the doctor tried to remain neutral, there was nothing neutral about drinking and driving.

"How is the woman he hit?" Mac asked.

The doctor nodded his head no, and Harm instinctively stepped closer to Mac, dropping his hand casually on her shoulder.

After much arguing and insisting, the doctor finally agreed not to keep Tommy overnight for observation. Harm and Mac felt after everything the family had been through with Harm in the hospital, keeping Tommy overnight would be too traumatic for everyone.

The rest of the day, at every opportunity, Harm couldn't bring himself to stop holding Mac's hand. They held hands in the car driving to Harriet's to pick up Trisha, watching videos with the kids, walking from the kitchen to the den after dinner, reading Tommy a bedtime story, on their way to tuck Trisha in bed, and walking back to their room. He simply needed to feel connected.

Ever since they'd gotten home he'd been thinking about what he wanted to say to Mac. No matter how much thought he gave it, he had no idea what to say or where to begin. He couldn't help wondering if this is why they'd spent all those years in love and did nothing about it. Was not being able to tell her how he felt the same problem the old Harmon Rabb had?

Mac had stepped away from his grip and began her nightly ritual. She took off her rings and dropped them in a tray on the dresser top, then kicked off her shoes and started undoing the buttons on her shirt as she walked to the bathroom. "Do you mind if I take a bath?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Of course not."

"I just want a warm soak. I won't take too long." What she really wanted was to curl into the safety and warmth of Harm's arms, but despite his comforting efforts this afternoon she was still afraid to ask, afraid it was too much too soon and would push him away.

She looked so lost. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms again, but fear of saying or doing the wrong thing kept him silently frozen in place. Still staring at the now closed bathroom door, Harm took a deep breath and began undressing. His shirt removed and neatly draped across a nearby chair, he sat down and removed his shoes and socks. Undoing his belt he remembered his pajamas were in the bathroom.

Propping the pillows behind him, still in his trousers, he grabbed a paperback from the night table and made himself comfortable while he waited for the bathroom to be free.

"I feel much better," Mac smiled, walking towards the bed and towel drying her hair.

"Good." Harm set his book on the nightstand. Turning back to face his wife, he watched as she tossed the small towel aside, untied her robe, draped it on the edge of the bed, and climbed under the covers. He couldn't help himself, everything about her seemed absolutely mesmerizing. After his scare today, he didn't ever want to take his eyes off of her.

Mac had tried not to blatantly stare, but it had been a long time since she'd seen Harm without a shirt. His chest was so perfect. Despite his years, he was still strong and handsome. As casually as she could, she watched him from the corner of her eye. When he went into the bathroom to change, she smiled at being able to blatantly stare at his six. That was in pretty good shape too. All of him was and she missed him.

**Chapter 38**

Harm practically brushed the enamel off his teeth while gathering his nerve. They needed to have that talk he'd mentioned in the ER and the sooner the better. He had to let her know how he felt, and somehow determine where they stood as husband and wife.

Walking back to bed, he realized he wanted to see her face when they had this conversation, not her profile from his side of the bed. Actually, if he'd been smart, he would have started the talk while they were still downstairs and not waited until they were about to crawl under the covers. Under the circumstances, this conversation might actually prove to be even more difficult than he had anticipated.

"Do you mind if I sit down? I'd like to talk to you." Harm asked standing on her side of the bed. At least this way he could see her face and read her expressions without developing a crook in his neck.

"No, not at all." Mac scooted over a bit giving him some room. She wasn't sure what it was he wanted to talk about, but she was thankful for any opportunity to keep him closer than usual. Even if it meant nothing more than sitting side by side.

"About today, I..." Harm started. Sitting down beside her, his eyes had moved from the edge of the bed over to her lap and slowly traveled up her body before settling curiously on her shoulder.

He was about to tell her how frightened he'd been when the hospital called, but the dark blotch on her shoulder was too distracting. "What's this?" His brow curled with concern, tentatively, he reached for her shoulder, afraid to actually touch her.

"What?" Mac twisted her head trying to see what Harm was pointing at.

"It looks like a bruise," he explained.

Mac tugged the edge of her nightgown off of her shoulder in an attempt to see what he was talking about. Unable to really see anything, she looked back and saw Harm's horrified expression. "What?" she repeated, her voice a little more anxious than before.

"You've got a purple mark down your collar bone." The small blotch was now a large thick mark, and it ran down below her neckline.

"I do?" Mac put both hands on the elastic edge of her nightgown's collar and pulled down forcefully.

Harm's eyes almost popped out of his head, both at the shock of the thick purple line running down her front, and at the amount of exposed bare cleavage. He suddenly wished he wasn't sitting so close to her. The warmth of her thigh next to his and the view of her nearly bare breasts were sending all the wrong messages to all the right places in his body. And to make matters worse, he desperately wanted to see more.

Now clearly able to see the mark on her chest, Mac pulled the nightgown away from her body and looked down at her torso.

Harm quickly looked up at the ceiling. The temptation to take a peek down her nightgown was unbearably strong. Maybe tonight wasn't a good night for this conversation. The idea was to tell her how much he'd grown to love her and need her and that he wanted to some day soon show her how much as only a man in love could, not to leer at her like she were some dime store display.

"It looks like the seatbelt left its mark." Mac dropped the nightgown back in place and glanced over at Harm. Noticing him looking awkwardly away, she placed her hand lightly on his thigh. "Harm?"

"Hmm?" Turning back to face her, he was relieved to discover she was once again covered up.

"It looks like bruising from the seatbelt. I'm sure it's nothing," Mindlessly, she patted his leg.

"Does it hurt?" Harm picked up his hand as though he was going to reach for her and quickly let it fall back to his side.

Lightly laying her hand by her heart, she gently pressed against her bruised skin. "No, but it does look awful, doesn't it?"

"I...uh...I tried not to look." Once again, Harm felt an immense heat pooling heavily where he really didn't need it.

"Why?" The word was out of Mac's mouth before she'd had a chance to censor herself.

"Why?" Harm's brows inched up nervously.

"That's what I said." She hadn't meant to say that out loud the first time, but now that she had, she would have liked an answer. She hadn't been able to figure him out. A few times he'd seemed to want her the way he used to. The two kisses they had previously shared felt real, they hadn't felt forced as though he were pretending. The same thing with the small gestures; they had felt natural too. Still, in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder if he was trying hard to be attentive, but didn't really want her the way he used to. She couldn't help thinking that maybe he was just going through the motions as he'd learned to do with so many other things.

"I uh, didn't think it was...appropriate."

"Appropriate?"

"Uh huh," he nodded. With responses like this, the legal profession certainly needn't worry he would ever return to litigating.

"Why?" It had been years since Mac had done this dance. She'd actually forgotten how frustrating it had been spending all those years in love and never connecting. Always walking on eggs, thinking and rethinking every word to come out of your mouth until what you said had absolutely nothing at all to do with what you meant. Now she was even more unsure than before. Was the man that had been so puritanical and slept on a chair all night in Russia rather than share a bed with a coworker behind all this double talk? Or did he simply not want her that way and had been trying to keep up the attempt of being a good husband?

"You deserve better, that's why I wanted to talk to you."

Mac felt her heart sink to her stomach. "I see."

She'd only said two words, but her eyes revealed the pain behind them. "Do you?" Harm reached out and gently ran his finger down along the edge of her bruising, stopping at the neckline of her nightgown.

Mac closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. His featherlight touch had sent rockets of electricity scattering to all points in her body.

Harm felt her chest rise under his fingertips. He could see the longing on her face hidden behind closed eyelids. He knew if he tried to take this further, she wouldn't say no. He'd known ever since that night on the dance floor.

Feeling his finger pull away, Mac slowly opened her heavy lids. When she looked into Harm's intense gaze, she saw his eyes were dark with the same raging passion that was burning inside her. He wanted her, there was no longer any doubt in her mind, but something was still holding him back. "What do I deserve?" she asked breathlessly, her eyes still locked on his.

"To be loved long and slow, not ogled by a thief in the night." Not moving his eyes from hers, he brushed his hand along the side of her face, bringing his thumb to rest on her soft lips. Her eyes had once again fallen shut at the feel of his delicate caress. Harm's heart was swelling at the knowledge that he could induce such a sweet response in her, and yet breaking at the doubts of who she wanted to love her.

Forcing her eyes open, Mac gently kissed his thumb. "You're not a thief in the night. You're the man I love."

**Chapter 39**

Either Harm or Mac had gotten up a few times during the night to check on Tommy. The first time they'd pulled back the bedspread and crawled under the covers, immediately snuggling up in each other's arms the same way they had fallen asleep. The second time they climbed into bed, but instead of falling asleep as they had the time before, they made long, slow love again. The last time they slipped into bed, Harm chuckled as Mac snuggled into him.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"I never imagined that at my age I could be so insatiable." Lifting the sheets slightly, Harm held them up long enough for Mac to get a glimpse of his once again growing interest. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." Pulling her back into his arms, he took a deep breath and tried not to think about how wonderful she felt against his skin.

Doodling her finger across his chest, "I, uh, thought you weren't sleepy?"

"I don't want to push," Harm answered seriously.

Mac studied his eyes. "I've waited a long time for you to want me again. Don't you ever pretend you don't."

Shifting his weight, Harm leaned over Mac, balancing on one elbow. "You know it's more than that, don't you? This isn't a matter of just wanting you. I've wanted you since the first night I came home."

Mac's eyes opened wide in surprise. "Is that why you wanted to sleep downstairs?"

"Part of it," he nodded. "But it wasn't long before I realized I was falling in love with you all over again."

Mac sat up. "Then why were you so distant?" She didn't understand.

"I thought you needed more time to grieve for who I was and learn to love me for who I am. AJ tried to tell me we were one and the same, but I didn't believe him."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I realized yesterday when I thought I might have lost you that regaining my past wouldn't be worth a damn if I didn't have a future with you. Then last night when you ran off a list of things you loved, it reminded me of the list AJ recited. They weren't identical, but the point was clear. You're in love with the man in here." Harm put his hand on his heart. "It was never what he did, it was why he did it." He brushed back a thin strand of hair from her face. "I love you Sarah Rabb."

"I love you." Burrowing under the covers, they created their own heat one more time.

Dragging himself out of bed the next morning, Harm was all too aware of the fact that he was going to need a nap today, a very long nap. Looking at the clock he wasn't surprised Mac had let him sleep in. Throwing on a pair of boxers and grabbing his robe, he glanced over at the night table. Nodding his head slowly, he opened the drawer and took out the plastic bag. It was time.

"Morning, sleepy head," Mac grinned from the kitchen counter. "Coffee's ready, I made it squid strength."

"Squid?" Harm curled his brow at her. He supposed he would have to accept that finally getting things right with Mac didn't mean that everything else would be miraculously perfect.

"Yeah. That's the Navy version of jarhead." Mac tried to keep the pleasant smile on her face. Harm seemed to take new revelations in stride these days, but she couldn't help feeling slightly apprehensive.

"In other words, watch who I say it to or I could wind up on the wrong end of a fist." Harm smiled his full flyboy smile.

"Something like that, yeah." Mac could almost hear the tension whooshing out of her like a leak in a hot air balloon. Turning to finish cleaning up after the kids' breakfast, her eyes blinked as she did a double take in Harm's direction. Walking slowly over to the coffeepot, she picked up his left arm. "You're wearing it."

"I, uh...I hope you don't mind. I...well, I thought it was time."

"No, I don't mind...I'm glad." Mac's eyes twinkled happily, only to have an unexpected awkwardness fall over them.

"Mac?"

"Hmm?" she took a step back before looking up at him.

"No." Reaching his arm around her waist he pulled her up tightly against him. "Nothing between us anymore. No pulling away, holding back what we're thinking." Watching a slow smile spread across her face, Harm kissed the top of her head. He knew better than to taste her lips or he'd risk giving the kids an early lesson on the birds and the bees.

Loosening his hold on her waist, he wondered out loud, "Am I ever going to get enough of this?" Smiling broadly, he noticed Mac blushing. "What?" he asked.

"I certainly hope not," she beamed.

Over the next few days, Harm was amazed at how different he felt. Not knowing the past was no longer the thorn in his side it had been. His focus now was on building a future, a great future with the woman and family he loved. He'd spent quite a bit of time talking about his options with Bud. As a retired naval attorney, Bud had considerable insight into Harm's legal options. The problem always seemed to return to Harm's lack of recalled experience.

On Thursday after the Thanksgiving football games they'd even gone so far as to sit down at Bud's home office and go over a few of his current cases. Though Harm was able to follow Bud's explanations easily, he had absolutely no insight or input. The law in private practice was simply not going to be an option either.

By the following Saturday, Harm had heard from Frank.

"Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you but things turned out to be a bit more complicated than I'd imagined."

"What things?" Harm gestured to Mac that he would take this call in the office, kissed her on the cheek, ran his hand across her six, grinned impishly, and walked off with the cordless phone at his ear.

"You may or may not remember, but I retired from Chrysler almost five years ago."

"I remember." He didn't actually remember the retirement, but he did remember his mom telling him Frank retired shortly after he and Mac moved to England.

"The last couple of years I've been on the board of directors for the Cities Future Foundation."

"Cities Future?"

"It's basically a mentoring program. It started out as a group of retired and semi-retired Chrysler execs helping out a few gifted but challenged inner city kids. The program has grown to not only include mentoring, but scholarships, internships, and other career placement assistance. We've got quite a payroll," Frank chuckled.

"I'm listening." Harm wondered what Frank was working up to. Harm had no corporate experience and even if he had, there'd be little of it he could remember.

"We've been talking about expanding the outreach of the foundation for over a year, but the board couldn't agree on where, how, or who."

"I see." Harm was starting to get an inkling of where Frank was going with this.

"We held a meeting last night. It was unanimous. Cities Futures is going to open an office in DC and we want you to run it."

**Chapter 40  
**

"You want me to what?"

"You heard me," Frank chuckled. "You'd be perfect. There will be a considerable amount of recruiting and fundraising, especially early on, but with your connections..."

"Connections? Frank, you know as well as I do that whoever I've dealt with in the past, I wouldn't recognize them if they stood in front of me with a nametag."

"Harm, your wife, Colonel Sarah Rabb, is on staff for the Joint Chiefs," Frank pointed out.

"Mac?"

"Yes, Mac. You remember her, tall, attractive woman, smart as a whip. There are people in that town who would kill for a connection like that."

"Frank. I can't put all of this on her."

"Harm, don't underestimate your circle of friends. AJ may be retired, but a two star still yields a considerable amount of influence. Bud is working for one of the more prestigious firms in DC. You have a lot more connections than you realize."

"Maybe, but I don't know the first thing about running a foundation."

"And no one expects you to. It would be the perfect opportunity to start fresh. You're a smart man, Harm. Just because it's unlikely you'll be able to ever practice law again doesn't mean you can't put that keen mind to use elsewhere."

Harm thought about what Frank was saying. He did like the idea of helping kids, especially kids at risk.

"Harm, there's a lot to go over. You don't have to say yes now, but think about it. When your mom and I are in Virginia for Christmas, I want you to help me check out some available office space, interview support staff, and meet with a few organizations that work with inner city teens. Then, after you've gotten a first hand look at it, you can tell me what you think."

"I'll talk to Mac, see what she thinks."

"Good. Sounds like things are going well for the two of you." Trish had pointed out to Frank that things somehow seemed different when she'd spoken with Harm and Mac more recently.

"Yeah, I think they are." Harm couldn't help but smile into the phone. They'd made so much progress in the last week since he'd done as Keeter had said and accepted how his wife felt about him. Sending the kids out to play and keeping Mac in bed hadn't hurt any, either.

Having ended the call, Harm returned the phone to its handset in the kitchen and looked around for his wife. Noticing the basement light on, he turned and headed downstairs.

"Did you have a nice chat with Frank?" Mac pulled a few things from the washing machine.

"It was certainly interesting." Harm wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Interesting good, or interesting bad?" Mac tried to toss a few things in the dryer without disturbing Harm's hold on her. She didn't want to discourage the affectionate gesture, but sometimes his timing really stunk.

"I'm not sure." Harm felt Mac's struggle with the clothes and stepped to her left, taking the garments from her hand and placing them into the dryer.

"Want to tell me about it?" Reaching into the washer, she pulled out more clothes.

"He wants to expand his children's foundation."

"The one for inner city kids?" Smiling, Mac handed him a few more things to put in the dryer.

"That's the one. Do you know much about it?"

"Not really, but ever since he retired, Frank has been heavily involved. He took it from a small local organization to a recognized statewide group. They've become a prototype for other mentoring programs."

"He wants me to run a DC branch." Harm leaned back against the folding table.

"He does?" Mac let the shirt she'd grabbed fall back into the washer.

"He seems to think my 'connections' could be very helpful."

"He's probably right. You could easily get an awful lot of military participation. Think what a visit to a carrier, or a ride in a Hornet could do for kids who had never considered the military. Bud could help with private sector funding, and you know how AJ loves to work with kids and baseball. You'd be able to put together quite a team." Mac picked up the last shirt again and tossed it into the dryer. "What do you think?"

"Maybe, but I don't know anything about running a foundation."

"No, but I'm sure Frank would help. Besides, look what you did with Sarah. You read over the contracts, did the math and renegotiated. It saved us quite a bit of money too. I'm sure whatever Frank has in mind, it's probably easily within your retained skills range." Mac closed the door to the dryer, pushed the button, and turned to face her husband.

"I do like the idea of helping kids," Harm shrugged, circling his arms loosely around his wife.

"You're good at it too," Mac grinned up at him, resting her hands around his middle.

"I am?"

Mac nodded, "You were wonderful with Chloe, especially when she ran off and hid in the elevator shaft."

"The what?" Harm's brows shot up.

"Long story," Mac chuckled. "And even though Jen wasn't exactly a kid, you went a long way in turning her from petty thief to career Navy."

"That's what she says, but somehow I think you may have had more to do with that."

"No. She was your responsibility. All I did was make lots of hot chocolate."

"Then you think it's something I should seriously consider?" Harm pulled Mac a little closer.

"If you like the idea, yeah. When do you have to let Frank know?"

"Not until after Christmas. He's going to have me ride shotgun while he works out some preliminaries over the holidays."

"Then I say you have plenty of time to do your own research, maybe talk to Bud and AJ, see what they think." Mac placed a quick kiss on his lips.

"Not a bad idea. I think I'll do that." Harm was just about to kiss his wife more thoroughly when the rushing sound of heavy paws came thumping down the stairs and Lady stuck her large snout between the couple.

"I know, Lady, I know." Mac reached down and petted the dog.

"Know what?" Harm wondered; that the dog doesn't like us hugging?

"It's time to pick Trisha up from Girl Scouts. You want to flip for it?" Mac stepped back a little.

"Nah. I'll go get her. Maybe I'll head over to Bud's for a little while too."

Mac smiled and nodded. She had been worried about what Harm would do with himself. He was still spending small amounts of time learning and catching up, but it wouldn't be long before he'd be waking up with nothing to do, and that had worried her. Maybe this could be a good fit.


	5. Chapter 41 the end

**Who Am I**

**Chapter 41**

**Christmas Eve**

**Rabb kitchen**

Mac had crawled out of bed earlier than the rest of the household that morning. Things seemed to be going well with Frank and the foundation. The few days they'd managed to devote to the task, Harm had come home happy. The idea of helping children put the same spark in his eyes she would see when he was standing on the deck of a carrier about to climb into one of his beloved tomcats. The new position wouldn't pay as much as he'd earned in the Navy, but with his pension it would be very doable. The really nice thing would be the flexibility of his schedule. That appealed to both Harm and Mac. Under normal circumstances, her job was strictly nine to five, no travel. Harm had been the one with the grueling job that had often kept him locked up at the pentagon until the wee hours of the morning. Having both of them on the same schedule would actually be a welcome change.

Still standing by the kitchen sink, staring quietly out the window, she could almost forget how close they were to a big city. This old house had a great backyard.

"The bed was cold." Harm slipped his arms around his wife.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Mac had been so lost in memories that she hadn't heard Harm come into the kitchen.

"Good thing you weren't guarding the hen house. The fox would have had a field day." Harm brushed Mac's hair aside and kissed the back of her neck.

Mac turned her head looking quizzically at her husband. "Barnyard analogies?"

"Hey, if the shoe fits," he shrugged. "Now, tell me what has you so restless that you're out of bed at 5:30 in the morning on a day off?"

"I'm not restless, just thinking." Mac leaned back into Harm's arms.

"What about?" Harm resisted the urge to feast on her neck and drag her back to bed. He could tell something serious was on her mind.

"You, us, everything."

"Hmm, that covers a lot of territory. Care to get more specific?"

"You are happy now, aren't you?"

"Very," Harm answered without a moment's hesitation. "Why would you have to ask?" He turned her around to fully face him.

"Technically it hasn't been THAT long since your accident. I mean there were times during the last few months when it felt like forever, but it isn't a lot of time to adjust to having a wife, kids, a new job. You've had a lot to deal with."

"I won't try to say some of it wasn't hard," Harm smiled at the crooked look Mac shot his way. "Okay, a lot of it was very hard, but with a great deal of help from you, Mom, the kids, and some wonderful friends, I worked through it. I'm still learning, but I'm not complaining. I had a pretty good life to wake up to once I was willing to accept it."

"What about this new job?"

"What about it?" Harm was beginning to wonder if maybe this conversation wouldn't be best held sitting down somewhere more comfortable.

"Facing the uncertainties of a new job can put a lot of pressure on a person."

"I've gotten pretty good at dealing with the unknown." Sliding his hand down over hers, he clasped it tightly and gave her a slight tug. "Why don't we go sit down on the sofa? I get the distinct impression you're going the long way around to get at something."

Mac smiled softly. He had gotten very good at reading her in a very short time.

Sitting down on the overstuffed sofa in the den, Harm looked at his wife, "Now, what is this really all about?"

"I worry about you sometimes. I...I don't want to put too much on you."

"You won't." Harm was beginning to think something was seriously wrong. "Have I done something?"

Mac chuckled softly, "I wouldn't put it quite that way."

"Mac... we promised, nothing between us, no secrets. If I've done something I shouldn't have you need to tell me."

"A few years ago I would have wrapped this up in a pretty little box and given it to you under the tree, but now I have no idea." Mac slipped the small item she'd been fiddling with in her pocket into Harm's hand.

Harm studied his hand intently. He could feel a wave of frustration threatening to overtake the moment. He knew damn well this was something important to Mac, something that had her acting more nervously than he could remember ever seeing her behave, and yet he had absolutely no idea what he was looking at.

"I...I'm sorry. I..." Harm looked up and at that moment he saw a single tear slip from the corner of Mac's eye. "Oh, Mac." He pulled her into his arms. He needed to hold her right now as much if not more than she needed to be held.

"I was afraid it would be too much for you," Mac mumbled into his shoulder.

"Too much for me?"

Pulling back, Mac nodded her head and reached for Harm's hand still clenching what she'd given him.

"I just wasn't thinking. Everything was so unexpected. I..." Mac rubbed her hand across her brow.

"Mac. I'm really sorry, but I have absolutely no idea what's going on at the moment and you're scaring the hell out of me. What's wrong? What does this mean?" Harm took back the plastic stick and held it up.

Mac stared at him blankly. Once again she'd forgotten how many pockets of memory loss Harm had. A small smile crept across her face at the realization he wasn't upset with the results but at not understanding the significance of what he currently held in his hand.

"The little blue line means I'm pregnant." Mac took a deep breath and waited for his reaction.

An immense rush of total elation rose through his body. He was about to pull his wife into a crushing embrace when the apprehensive look on her face stopped him cold. Why was she so distressed by this? Was this not a good thing for her? What was he supposed to do?

"Say something, please." Mac's insides were infested by a flock of restless geese.

"Are you okay?" he mumbled softly.

Other than being scared to death, yeah she was probably okay. Mac nodded her head. The geese were fast becoming more agitated.

Harm couldn't help it any longer, a broad, full blown, flyboy smile spread across his face. Reaching out, he let the flat of his palm rest gently on Mac's tummy.

"A baby? Really?"

Relieved at the bright grin, Mac smiled wider than a carrier deck. "Really."

Harm couldn't stand it any more, pulling Mac tightly against him, he whispered in her ear, "I love you so much."

Squeezing him just as tightly, she kissed the side of his face. "Then you don't mind?"

"Mind!" Harm kissed her square on the lips, dragging her across his lap. When he finally pulled back he looked deeply into her eyes. "You were afraid I'd be upset?"

"Well, it was different with Trisha and Tommy. We were trying to get pregnant so it wasn't so far out of left field. Besides, I was a lot younger then."

Harm's brow curled instantly with concern. "You did say you're okay?"

"I'm not THAT old, but 43 is a little older than I'd planned on to still be having children. We'll have to have a few tests, but so far everything is normal."

"I couldn't be happier. Don't you see? This is my first. Now I understand how I must have felt when you told me about Trisha and Tommy. Soon I'll get to feel our child grow and kick. I'll get to hear his first words and watch his first steps. I'll be able to teach him how to ride a bike and throw a ball."

"Him? You've already decided," Mac happily teased.

"Him, her, as long as the baby is healthy, I couldn't be happier!" Harm couldn't resist and dragged Mac into another searing kiss. His hands began roaming gently across her back and down around her hips. Blazing a trail of hot wet kisses, starting at the edge of her moist lips and slowly descending down her long neck, he froze when his hand came around and brushed across her stomach.

Harm's eyes were open wide as he pulled away. "Is this okay? I mean should I be doing this?"

Grinning impishly, Mac brushed her lips tenderly against Harm's. "You'd better believe it, buster."

In a move that surprised and thrilled Mac, Harm managed to slide out from under her, stand, and scoop her into his arms as if she were a new bride. With the agility of a much younger man, he carried her up the stairs and into their room, his lips never releasing hers for a single moment.

"Thank you," he whispered. Nothing on the day he woke up in what he thought was a horrific nightmare could have prepared him for the wondrous joy that would be his life. "I love you Sarah Rabb."

"I love you Harmon Rabb."

The End


End file.
